


Muse

by locknkey



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locknkey/pseuds/locknkey
Summary: In a universe a little bit sideways from ours, the fates still throw Jared and Jensen together. Jensen is on his way back to Texas after his new pilot gets tanked, but Jared intervenes with plans of his own.Jared is in desperate need of a pretty male model for his next big gig. Next thing he knows, Jensen is living with him, working with him and it feels like he’s known him forever. More unexpected is his attraction to Jensen, an attraction he can’t admit, even to himself.Jensen accepts Jared’s offer to be his muse. He promises himself not to fall for his super hot boss with the pretty girlfriend. The thing about promises is, they’re simple to make and hard to keep.





	Muse

 

 

  
Art Post [HERE](https://dephigravity.livejournal.com/125817.html)

 

_"In each of us lie good and bad, light and dark, art and pain, choice and regret, cruelty and sacrifice. We’re each of us our own chiaroscuro, our own bit of illusion fighting to emerge into something solid, something real. We’ve got to forgive ourselves that. I must remember to forgive myself. Because there is a lot of grey to work with. No one can live in the light all the time."_

~ Libba Bray

Jensen's not sure why he's out tonight. Hell, who's he kidding? He's looking for what everyone in Tinseltown hopes to find in WeHo – a pretty man to warm his sheets and no one who will call him a dirty fag for it, but the prospects are meager. A queen who goes by Stella is crooning a Patsy Cline number and waving her yellow boa on the small stage. A handful of people are shuffling around the tiny dance floor and a few other patrons are scattered at tables and the bar. Jensen's just about to wave over Dave – the tattooed bartender with kohl-rimmed eyes - when a tall, hot brickhouse walks through the door and _Raining Men_ tinkles from somewhere behind the bar. Jensen's night just took a turn for the better.

“Jared,” Dave calls from Jensen's left. “You having your usual?”

Jared – and _damn_ he might be taller than Jensen's six foot one - slides onto the stool next to his. His tattoos shift with the movement of muscle under skin; it’s mesmerizing. Jensen would really like to lick his way across that design and see how far it goes under hot stuff’s tee. Jared nods an affirmative to Dave and flashes Jensen a dimpled grin so expansive it reaches right into Jensen and he's smiling back. Jared holds his hand out to Jensen.

Jensen's brain, which is still reeling from that brilliant smile and naughty thoughts of naked tattooed skin, takes a few awkward seconds to remind himself to extend his hand. “Jensen. Nice to meet you.”

Dave slides a drink to Jared and says, “Your order will be up in about ten.”

“Thanks, man,” Jared says and those dimples pop again. Jensen wants very badly to taste that smile. “So.” Jared turns, faces Jensen, one knee bumping against Jensen's hip. “Haven't seen you in here before?”

Jensen tilts his head back and drains the last of his Molsen. He catches Jared eyeing him up and down and is pretty certain he won't have to work hard for this one. “Well I'm here now.” Jensen shoots his best under the lashes look and inspects Jared head from toe in the same way he just got looked over.

Jared laughs, a booming sound, and claps one hand to Jensen's knee, “That you are.” When Jared reaches for his drink, Jensen feels the heat linger on his knee. He shakes his head. It’s not really like him to have such a strong reaction to anyone. Of course it's been a good six months since he's gotten laid. He's just horny. “So what brings you in tonight?” Jared asks.

_Huh?_ Jensen wasn't expecting the small talk. He was hoping for a proposition. He thought he was pretty clear in his intent. Jensen mentally shrugs. He was pretty sure Jared was into him, but if he wants to take it slow, he's not what Jensen's looking for. However, his momma did raise him to be polite so he answers truthfully. “Actually I'm your cliched Hollywood sob story. Out-of-work actor going home with his tail between his legs.” That's not the whole story, but it's more than enough sharing. He signals Dave to bring him another.

“What? With that face? You've got to be kidding me.” Jensen's belly flutters. _Christ,_ he's not fourteen no matter how long it's been since he got off with another person. It's a pretty uninspired compliment. Jensen's heard all about his pretty face.

Jensen shrugs, “A lot of pretty in this town.”

Jared's lips twitch as he responds, “So you're saying you've got no talent?”

“What?” Jensen's annoyed, but then Jared grins and it's so good-natured that Jensen's anger slips away. Jensen shakes his head and sighs. “No. I think I'm damn good, but apparently the gritty, rough look is what's in demand right now. And I'm just too damn pretty.” Jensen can't control the bitterness that seeps into his words. He's heard it at least three times this week alone.

“You do any modeling?” Jared asks. Jensen takes another long pull of beer and tries to discern if that's the lousy pick up line it sounds like.

“Sure. It's good filler between acting work.” Jensen waits, watches. Jared twirls the highball glass between his hands. It looks like a damn thimble in those giant paws. Jared looks at him and Jensen can't make out what the look is, but Jensen has a feeling he's under a microscope, his insecurities laid bare.

“I'm a photographer,” Jared says, finishing the last of his drink.

It's Jensen's turn to laugh. This guy can't be for real. Next thing he's going to say is he can help Jensen out if Jensen doesn't mind doing him a few naked favors. It's not the first time and it won't be the last. Jensen sets his bottle on the bar, and reaches for his wallet. Hell, Jensen would have blown him for free. Part of the reason he's leaving is offers like this. He's not about to bail on his principles even for a roll in the hay with someone as hot as Jared. Jensen takes a ten and flips it on the bar.

“Wait, wait.” It's Jared. The thoughtful look is gone replaced by pleading eyes. Jared reaches behind him for his wallet and scurries through the pocket. He pulls out a small white card and thrusts it towards Jensen. “See - ”

_Jared Padalecki, Artist/Photographer._ It's printed on the glossy card in neat black type. Above it is a photo of a woman with brown eyes morphed with some flowers and bokeh effects. Okay, Jensen’s had some weird propositions in his day. He still can't look at a Popsicle without cringing, but he can't believe anyone would go so far as to have fake business cards printed up.

Jared reaches for the card. “It's the only one I've got on me.”

Jensen reconsiders the possibility of it being fake.

“Look.”Jared points at the card. “That's my studio address. It's just down the block.”

Jensen checks the address as Dave places a giant brown handled bag on the counter, Jared puts two twenties on the counter, grabs the bag and turns towards Jensen. “Hell,” he says, as he lifts the bag a bit “If you haven't eaten, why don't you join me and you can have a look at some of my work.” Jared has that pleading look again and his shoulders are hunched in as if he's expecting a no.

Jensen decides to make him sweat it a little, although he's pretty sure “look at some of my work” is a modern form of, “come up and see my etchings.”

“Well,” Jensen lets a little Texas into his voice and drawls, “depends, what's for dinner?”

Jensen's surprised when he hears a bit of Texas back. “Since y'all are going to be eating it for dinner, I guess I can let you in on a secret. Dave here does some of the best Tex-Mex outside of Texas. It's like a piece of home. I've got enchiladas, fajitas, corn bread and, of course, chips and queso.”

Jensen has missed the hell out of good authentic Tex-Mex. L.A. has got some great eating, but it's not the same as when he lived in Richardson.

As they walk, they sketch in their personal histories of growing up in Texas, discovering that both are middle children with older brothers and younger sisters. Talking of home softens both their consonants and it's comfortable in a way Jensen hasn't been in a long time. He loves acting, but somehow the Hollywood scene never quite fit. He always felt as if his day to day life – making connections, being seen at the right places, dating PR provided women – was another role and not really being true to himself. His dad called it paying his dues and had warned him that some of the things he'd see and hear after leaving Texas would likely drive him right back home. Jensen had been lucky and landed a fantastic stint on _Days of Our Lives_ , but his luck had petered out after _Dark Angel_.

Caught up in his thoughts Jensen walks right into Jared's solid backside before stepping back and apologizing. Jared grins and holds open a door. Like most of the buildings along this stretch of street the lines and construction speak to former warehouse spaces.

Jensen moves to go through the offered door, but Jared reaches his arm out, a huge warm hand plastered to the center of Jensen's chest. “I should probably warn you - ”

That's all he gets out before Jensen hears squeals followed by a flurry of female hands grabbing him and pulling him into the small lobby space. He's spun around while gleeful voices squee, “Jared, oh my God. You did it,” and, “Can we keep him?” and, “He's perfect.”

Jensen isn’t inclined to blushing but with one pair of hands fondling his biceps and another groping his chest, the tell-tale heat rises up his neck in a wave. The tall redhead grabs his chin and turns his head in either direction. “I'm going to have to make sure not to cover these freckles.” The shorter, dark-haired woman runs a hand through his hair and frowns as she pushes it one way then the other. She mutters under her breath, “Hmm. I think bedhead would be perfect.”

“Shoo or no Tex-Mex for you two, and keep your hands to yourselves ladies. He's a person no matter how Ken-doll looking he is.” Mischief dimples Jared's cheeks as he glances at Jensen. The two mischievous woman back off, twin moues of disappointment on their mouths.

“These hyper ladies are my styling team. Hair and special effects is Genevieve’s speciality.” The brunette looks up at him from under her eyelashes but there's no shyness there at all, more of a speculative gleam. “Danneel is my make-up artist and seamstress.” The redhead winks, holds her hands out for one of the bags of food and says, “Give me.”

Jared hands it over and says, “You two can eat in my office. I'm gonna take Jensen upstairs.”

Danneel walks away as Genevieve pushes up to Jared and mock whispers, “So did you hire him yet?”

Jensen raises an eyebrow and says, “Hire?”

Jared's hand comes down on his shoulder. “Let's eat first, then we can talk if you think you might want to stick around Tinseltown for a while.”

Well, it seems obvious that either Jensen isn't getting laid or that pleasure is going to come much later in the night, but he finds he doesn't care all that much. His evening has turned for the better, and he's willing to follow where it leads.

He tromps upstairs after Jared. His hand finds bumps and ridges on the iron stair rail that has rusted patches that pretentious types pay big bucks to have imitated. The stairs are old, wood slats polished to a gleam.

The staircase opens up into a wide half-circle space floored in marble.

“We set up a little cafe up here on opening nights for wine and coffee. Sometimes we'll get in some musicians to add ambiance. It let's people linger and socialize. It's been good for sales.” The curvature of the back wall is old brick. Jensen looks for a door, but the space seems to dead end. Jared walks right up to the wall. And presses one of the bricks in. It pops open to reveal a security panel. Jensen averts his gaze as Jared keys in the number and an entire section of the brick wall swings open.

Jared looks at him and Jensen can only imagine he's gaping. _Jared has his own bat cave._

Jared wiggles his eyebrows and says, as if they are brain twins, “I always wanted to be Bruce Wayne.”

Once they pass through the opening Jared waves his hand at the door and it seals as silently as it opened. Jensen expects the typical sterile wide-open floor plans that are chic from New York to London, but he should have already guessed that Jared isn't a trend follower.

Instead of white walls and architectural lines, the overall colors are rich browns with hints of blue, teal, and rust. Jared left the original brick intact and the ornate windows with stained glass insets are surely original to the building. The space is huge and Jensen can picture the light pouring through the windows in the morning. The main space is full of oversized furniture and a huge coffee table with a weathered state flag of Texas emblazoned on it. Jensen can see into the kitchen and the colors are all deep burgundies and golden wood tones. In spite of the enormous space the loft breaths comfort and warmth.

Jared drops the bag on the table. “You mind unpacking while I get some things?”

Jensen reaches for the bag in answer and Jared heads behind a partition. When he comes back he has a camera slung around his neck and another in his hands. He moves into the kitchen and Jensen hears the thump of drawers being opened and closed and the tinkle of flatware.

Jared comes back and lays both cameras on the table. He passes Jensen a set of utensils wrapped in a take-out napkins and a paper plate. He sits down on the couch and starts digging into boxes and unwrapping tortillas from silver foil. When Jensen doesn't move right away to join him, Jared looks up. “Come on, man. Dig in.” Jared's already munched down half a fajita by the time Jensen serves himself. It's quiet for a minute but not uncomfortable. Jared eats as if it's a sport, all speed and controlled motion. Jensen wonders what else Jared could fit in his mouth but slides the dirty thought aside for the moment. Jensen's about halfway through the first fajita and it's just as good as Jared promised it would be. He can't help the groan that slips out. It's been a long time since he had food this good.

Jensen looks up at Jared's snort and once again finds himself trapped in a blinding grin. “Told ya it was great, didn't I?” Jared pats his tummy and seems entirely too pleased with himself.

Jensen declines responding in favor of continued worship of his food. Jared raises a camera and asks, “Do you mind?”

Jensen thinks Jared planned it so his mouth would be full and he couldn't decline without spraying rice and beans all over the floor. Truthfully Jensen doesn't mind and even if he did he's pretty sure even the most camera shy person would permit Jared to do anything he wanted. Somehow six foot four of pure muscle and wild ink can somehow still have the bashful pleading look of the world's cutest begging dog.

Jensen nods and Jared, sits down again. “Look, just be yourself. These are test shots and I want to get a feel of how you look naturally.”

Jensen nods again and dips a chip into the divine queso. If he's not careful he's going to end up licking out the little styrofoam container. He tries to relax taking deep breaths and only thinking about his food, but soon Jared has him completely enthralled. Jared banters about the Cowboys and plays a one-upmanship game of “I'm more Texas than you are.” Jared wins when he describes streaking down his high school football field, his privates protected only by the furry mascot head of a longhorn bull. Jensen forgets he's even getting his picture taken. It almost as if he's known Jared forever. It's the most comfortable he's been around a stranger in, well, never really. Even back in Texas people could want more than you wanted to give, and Jensen never did open up easily. His adventures in Los Angeles have just cemented the trait. Somehow Jared has wiggled under that protective armor as if Jensen had left a space just for him.

After a third fajita and a valiant attempt to demolish the queso Jensen leans back sighs and pats his own belly, “Damn that was good.”

Jared snaps a couple more frames before sitting back down. He spreads his hands out, palms up and says, “So, here's the deal. I've been chosen to do a fashion shoot in Italy at the end of the month during fashion week. Alessandro - he’s head designer at Gucci - insists that I bring my own model. He's a fan of my work and felt I'd be able to do more justice to his vision if I wasn't working with unknown talent. Technically you are unknown talent, but they've rejected every male model I've picked out so far and tomorrow's my deadline for submissions. If you are interested, I'd really like your permission to send off some of the shots I just took.”

Jensen opens his mouth, but he's got no clue what he's about to say. His chest compresses, stealing his breath and his thoughts. He never imagined he'd get another shot, but it's modeling not acting. He needn't have worried.

Jared continues, “You don't have to say yes now.”

Jared gets up, goes back behind the partition that sections off the kitchen and shuffles back out a few minutes later and hands Jensen his business card to keep this time. “You can have tonight to think about it. I'd like to hire you either way as you have exactly what I need for some of my upcoming personal work. Do you have an agent still?”

Jensen let Margie go last week, but he knows she'll take him back, especially if he's getting guaranteed work. He digs out his billfold and hands Jared his agents card from Paradigm.

Jensen is not going to pass out, really. Normally he'd be on high alert, sure that nothing this good was being offered to him on a chance encounter. He's worked hard to get every role he's ever had and this is like some kind of Disneyesque offering.

If Jared notices his trepidation, Jensen can't tell as he starts right up talking again. “I could offer you about twenty hours a week with a base rate depending on the shoot plus overtime bonuses and how could you pass on my entirely awesome staff.?” Jared's rushing through his words now and the puppyish plea of his eyes has somehow gotten even more pathetic.

Jared stops, a music box dancer with no more electricity and collapses into couch, waves a hand in the air, “Sorry. I'm kind of desperate and pushy and if you don't want to - “

Jensen cuts him off. “I'm definitely interested.“

“Yeah?”

And, okay, the smile Jensen gets is one he would do a whole lot to put on Jared's face on a regular basis. He mentally shakes the feeling off. He doesn't do relationships and he certainly doesn't do them this fast and, hell, he still can't tell if Jared is even interested in him that way. Jensen will not be the gay stereotype who falls in love with a straight boy. Nope. Besides gay in Hollywood isn't relationships. It's going down on your knees in an alley or taking a quick fuck in a back office, before your partner goes home to his wife and you play straight for the press. Jensen decided early on he wasn't going to buck the system. He is not Neil Patrick ‘fucking’ Harris.

Jared continues. “Well let's go downstairs and you can see some of my work. I had a show last week and the work will be up until after Milan fashion week.” Jared sweeps up the food leftovers, hands Jensen the plates as if they've been doing this forever and they cart the remains into the kitchen. Jared passes him the Saran Wrap and Jensen covers the beans and some of the fajita leftovers. Jared puts them in the fridge, turns to Jensen and claps his hands together. “All right. Hope you like what you see.”

Jensen expects Jared to lead the way. Instead, Jared wraps a massive paw around the back of Jensen's neck and shoves him towards the entrance. And there isn't a single cell of Jensen's body that isn't appreciating the touch. Some parts southward more than others. Damn, working with Jared's going to tie him in knots.

Parsing his own thoughts Jensen realizes he's already accepted Jared's offer in his head. The only way he's going to say no is if this turns out to be some sleazy cover for Jared shooting porn, but that's not the vibe Jensen is getting at all. He also needs Jared to be flexible about scheduling so he can continue to audition and hopefully take acting roles. He's still passionate about the work and this might be a chance for him to get back on the horse.

Jared takes the lead after they traverse the stairs and leads him through a old wooden door and into a gallery space. It's a pretty typical gallery space, all white walls and backgrounds. But instead of a sprawling open floor plan, the space is divided with mobile panels that can be moved and adjusted. Jared leads him silently to the first piece and steps back, letting Jensen actually take it in.

Right off Jensen notices that the photos are all black and white - large prints easily measuring five feet by seven feet on the largest. At first Jensen can’t make sense of what he’s looking at, but when he figures it out he knows he can’t pass on an opportunity to be photographed by Jared. The photo is a nude, but it's in no way exploitative. In fact Jensen can't say for sure if the figure is male or female. Shadows from a source outside of frame cast stripes across the lit parts of the scene which is nothing more than bare walls. Jensen can make out a knee and the curvature of spine. One hand is outstretched in supplication and the face is half buried under the arm. The hair – what he can see of it – is shaved on the bottom with blunt bangs and could easily be male or female. His eyes can't help trying to puzzle out the form, but he can't and he moves to the next piece.

All the shots play with shadow, from the soft grays of leaves floating across a profile to the dance of water from a window pane displayed across a curved buttock. All the figures seem to be the same model and each broadcasts in the pose a sense of longing or reaching. Each of the shots is a piece in some kind of puzzle, and as he nears the end Jensen is no closer to understanding Jared's intent, but he is deeply attracted to the work – the ambiguity of the form, the sense of something just out of sight that is tantalizing, a slight melancholy resting beneath the surface of abstract forms. Jensen very much wants to be a part of Jared's vision, to be part of something he senses is more important than simple entertainment or advertising.

As he gazes one last time at the last print, half a curved body shadowed in lace, Jensen is left with an overall impression of femininity even though he can't say that there is definite reason to think that. He turns to look at Jared, trying to find some way to say how impressed he is.

It must show on his face, because Jared's grin rises, a bright and stunning light beamed right at Jensen. His heart does not turn over – absolutely not. It's gas from the Tex-Mex. Jensen clings to that idea hard and follows Jared as he waves him through another door.

Inside is the only space Jensen has seen that's not polished and neat. Comfy chairs and a matching couch in terra cotta are arranged around a low coffee table strewn with fashion magazines. The desk is an old grade school type in solid wood with papers streaming from baskets and piles of prints . Another metal army style desk fits up against the wood desk in an “L” shape. Here, Jared's arranged two oversized monitors – one displays a dancer in a shape Jensen wouldn't be able to twist himself out of, covered in what seems to be white mud. The second has a number of tool palettes that are unfamiliar to Jensen.

Jared waves at the the monitor and his expression is almost embarrassed, “I was shooting the LA Contemporary Dance Company last week and I'm editing the shots to go out in a couple of days for their new playbills.” Jared waves at the couches and sits down in one of the chairs. His long legs almost fold up to his chin and Jensen's not much better off. The seating is very low.

“Danneel curb surfed these and on my budget I make due.” There's no apology in Jared's words just a factual explanation.

“Dude, I understand. My apartment was mostly hand-me-downs and shelves made from cinder blocks.” They grin at each other.

“So,” Jared starts, wiping his hands down his jeans and then running one through his hair before bouncing his eyes off Jensen. Instead of finishing his thought he grabs a copy of Vogue Italia off the coffee table and hands it to Jensen. “Page 34.”

Jensen opens the magazine to flip through four pages of women's looks. The shots are atypical of fashion shots. Where normally the model is front and center, instead, grayed out buildings, parts of structures, and a field of foliage dominate most of the space. Yet the models peeking from the edges, clothes married to an edge of the frame or partially out of frame are the first thing you focus on. The negative space drawing attention to the clothes rather than overwhelming them. The models don't look like thin hangers either – each has a sense of personality, a quirky smile of or some secret hidden behind crinkled eyes. If Jensen's not mistaken their body types are not the typical knobby kneed barely there girls featured in most magazines. Jared's good – very, very good, as if Jensen had any doubts– but it's clear his advertorial work is as thoughtful as his fine art prints.

“That's the work that got Gucci to contact me about Milan. He likes the way I can make clothing still look purchasable on different body types and because he's combining his men's and women's lines to a more androgynous subtype, I'm a good fit.” There's a bit of sarcasm lacing Jared's words.

“But he's still rejecting your models?”

“Yeah. And I really want this gig. If he likes what I do, they are going to use me and the model for print and the rest of the runway season. It's enough cash that I can turn down wedding shoots and some of the local gigs to do the work I want.” Jared leans back in his chair longs legs stretching out and crossing at the ankles on the coffee table. Jensen sees the ink tracing across Jared’s ankles and tries not to stare. _Damn, that’s hot._ Jared continues as if Jensen isn’t shifting in his seat. “I want this, I do. When I saw you tonight, I was pretty damn sure you'd make Alessandro cream his pants.” Jared waves a hand. “I mean that in the best possible way. You're extremely masculine but your features are almost pretty and that's exactly what Alessandro Michele emphasized that he wanted.”

“So what will be expected of me exactly, if I accept?” Jensen leans in, elbows on his knees.

“For me – I'd like to have you do a shoot similar to the one hanging in the gallery now. I do a lot of nudes, but always closed set – just me and the model, unless the model requests a chaperone. Your comfort is my first priority. Also I don't do full nudes usually, so you'd be wearing something similar to a dance belt or a cock sock. I edit out anything that shows later. Pay wise, I'm competitive and can discuss that with your agent.”

“What about this Gucci deal? It seems pretty intense.”

“It will be. If we get it, it will be about six weeks straight of sixty hour weeks, plus a continued commitment to Gucci print and runway work for the coming season. All the outfits will be fitted here and flown back to Milan before the show. Directly following the show will be a photoshoot for the collection. Other projects will be assigned as needed but all of us will be under contract to fulfill Gucci's work first.”

“Would I still be able to audition for acting work?”

“Honestly?” Jared raises his eyebrows in question and Jensen nods. “If we get Gucci – probably not for the first six weeks, but for any work after that I can negotiate that your acting obligations come first. And even if we don't get Gucci, I'd still like to use you for my work and I'm totally flexible. I don't promote or display new work until all the pieces are ready. It's one reason I wanted my own gallery.”

Jared stands and Jensen takes that as his cue. It's getting late and it's pretty clear that Jared's only interest had been professional.

Jensen stands and says, “This sounds good, I'd like to think it over tonight and talk to my agent in the a.m. and I'll definitely let you know as soon as I hear from her.”

Jared offers him a ride, but Jensen explains he's parked not too far away.

At the door Jared swallows one of Jensen's hands in his and says as he shakes, “I sure hope you'll decide to work with me. I think it'd be a good fit.”

Every professional thought gets crowded out by thinking of exactly how good a fit they'd be together and Jensen has to remind himself it's all business from now on.

 

The strumming of guitars drifts through the door as Jensen lets himself into Chris’s and Steve's apartment. Chris stops playing, slaps Steve on the arm and say with a shit-eating grin. “Only midnight. I think our boy struck out.”

Jensen flips him the bird and collapses into the couch. “I got more lucky than you could guess.”

Steve holds a hand out palm up. “We've told you we don't want the dirty details, Jensen.”

“Aw, c'mon,” says Chris, “Let the lad regale us with his success.”

They're both snickering and Jensen hates them both. “Actually I got a job offer.”

Steve's eyes widen and Chris says, “Well, spill.”

Jensen starts in describing the evening and Steve starts up a slow accompaniment. When Jensen finishes Steve plucks a little denouement with a frill.

Chris jumps up and grabs his laptop while Steve asks, “So you think he's legit?”

Jensen shrugs. He does, but it wouldn't be the first time he was wrong. Of course, now he has a lot more experience under his belt.

Chris is clacking away on the laptop and they all shift to the couch to view the results.

“Well you never mentioned how damn hot the guy is, Jenny,” Chris says.

“Didn't seem important and don't call me Jenny unless you'd like to sing soprano at your next gig.” He shoves an elbow into Chris's ribs for good measure. He grins at Chris's little “oomph” of breath and irritated look.

Chris starts to click on a link for _Jared Padalecki Photography_ but Jensen grabs his hand. “Wait. That one.” It's an IMDB profile.

“Woohoo! Looks like your boy’s a failed actor, Jen.”

“He's not my boy and I'm pretty sure he didn't fail. He seems passionate about his work.” The images he viewed earlier run briefly through his head. No, Jared definitely was passionate about his photography.

“Well, so you say, but you're getting defensive there, Jackles.”

Jensen doesn't bother responding. Chris loves to look for an argument and Jensen is in no mood to provide one. They sift through links and Jared comes out looking good in each. Not only has he achieved a lot of local critical acclaim, but he donates photography sessions to families whose kids have cancer and has supported several local animal shelters both financially and by taking some great shots to help get animals adopted. The guy is too good to be true.

As if hearing Jensen's thoughts, Chris says, “You know what they say. If it's too good to be true - “

“Yeah.”

Steve pipes up then. “Jensen. You're not the same green kid you were when you got here. What have you got to lose by accepting?”

That's the thing. The rejections have hurt. He thought _Still Life_ was going to take off after six episodes were ordered and filmed, but the studio pulled it before it even aired. There were whispers of a supporting role on _Smallville_ when he didn't get the lead, but it didn't pan out. The only thing he's done recently is a straight to DVD movie and a Doritos commercial. Not stellar. He'd never say it out loud, but his confidence has taken a hit. What if this goes no better.

“Stop it.” This times it's Chris. “Steve's right. This looks too good, but you've got nothing to lose and I know you're in no hurry to hightail it out of here. Besides,” he says as he pats the couch, “you know you want a few more nights of luxury couch surfing.”

Jensen snorts. His back hurts just thinking about laying back down on the couch. The best thing about leaving for home was leaving behind this torture device disguised as furniture.

Jensen yawns, stretches. Steve and Chris get up and head off for bed. Jensen knows that taking the time to think about Jared's offer is a pretense. He knows what he wants.

 

Jared wakes before the sun, alarm still two hours or more from ringing, but it doesn't matter. He'd barely slept, mind running with lists of what he needed to accomplish today. He shuffles out to the kitchen. The mutts are asleep on the couch – too early for them to be wanting out yet. Jared starts the coffee maker, scratches at his belly and peruses the fridge. Looks like it's leftover pancakes or left over Thai. Jared chooses pancakes and slices some banana as they heat in the microwave. He's already having to talk himself down from getting antsy and jumping in to make calls before anyone in their right mind is there to answer them. It's just that he's so sure – or maybe desperate, his mind insists – for this thing with Jensen to work that he wants to make it all happen right now.

He lets Sadie and Harley down the back stairs to the outside courtyard that came with the space. That'd been the final selling point - a yard in the middle of a mostly industrial area. He hadn't been able to bear the idea of parting with his animals even if Sandy had offered to take them.

Coffee and pancakes in hand Jared ambles down to office. He'll grab a t-shirt from down there. He parks himself in front of his computer, slips a tee that probably needs washing over his head and brings up the test shots of Jensen. It takes Jared a few minutes to realize his eyes hadn't been lying to him when it told him Jensen was one of the best looking men he's ever seen.

He's seen plenty, in acting, in shooting, all over southern California – it's a very pretty town, but Jensen isn't just pretty in person. His looks leap off the page, draw the viewer to his long lashes and plump lips, and the guy doesn't seem to have a bad angle. With every click Jared's more and more certain that if Jensen says no he'll curl up and cry. Jensen is perfect for the shoots Jared wants to try – his masculinity dulled but not erased by his feminine mouth and eyes. If anything he's more alluring for it – different in a way that Jared badly wants to play with on camera. Strength and vulnerability, humor and mystery, are each captured in these simple test shots. If what he sees here is any indication, Jensen won't be out of work for long. He's got chops even when he's not trying.

Jared selects ten shots that he thinks will impress Alessandro and show a good range of what Jensen can project. He wishes he'd had time for some more set up shots, but these are natural in a way studio shots wouldn't be. Jared hopes it's enough as he hits send.

He flips through the remaining shots one more time, can't seem to help looking again. One shot he pulls up and knows he'll want to get some prints made. Jensen's laughing, shoulders up, head back. His blue tee stretches across his frame displaying subtle curves of muscle underneath. It's a head turning shot, full of uninhibited joy that can't be faked.

Jared wants to see much more of the real Jensen, capture it and display it. His chest expands as he looks through the shots one more time. He can barely wait to talk to Jensen.

 

Jensen's phone is ringing. _Jesus_. Jensen slides the red button and pulls the blankets back over his head. Not three minutes later it rings again. Jensen groans, checks the caller ID this time and flips the phone open. “I haven't had coffee.”

“You've got ten minutes and don't make me come over there. Your friend Chris might not live through a second meeting.” Margie hangs up and Jensen rubs at his eyes. His agent knows he's no good before at least two cups of coffee. He wanders towards the kitchen, phone in hand and caffeinates for what is sure to be a tedious conversation.

 

Jared has done all the things: called Jensen's agent, taken the dogs for a run made his bed. He even cleaned the toilet and did some laundry – even though his housekeeper usually takes care of those things. He's about to start pacing when his phone rings.

“Jared?” The vowels are lilting, accented. “It's Alessandro. Where have you been hiding this beauty?”

_Holy shit,_ Allessandro is calling him personally. Jared does a little shuffle victory dance across the floor but keeps his voice cool and professional.

 

Jensen hangs up with Margie and his heart is doing palpitations. The money’s not just good, it's great, and that's without figuring in bonuses or any of the extra work if the Gucci thing is a go.

Hope zings through him, a heady soul-lifting thing he hasn't felt since his first job offer on _Days of Our Lives_. He's barely poured his second cup of coffee when his phone rings again.

It's Jared and he's rattling off words as if he's in a speech competition. “Okay. You need to get here ASAP. Margie just called and said she'd send over the contracts within hour. Alessandro called from Italy and they need some additional shots and want to see your walk. Oh and shave, they want to see what you look like without the facial hair.” Jared hangs up before Jensen can even get a word in.

He stares at his phone, shakes his head and sips at his coffee. Ten minutes with caffeine will make a it better day for anyone Jensen has to be around.

 

Jared calls Genevieve as soon as he gets off the phone with Jensen.

“Gen, get your butt over here ASAP. Grab Danni on the way and tell her to pick up something that will make Jensen look hot.”

She giggles. “Aye, aye boss. Of course that man would look hot in a muumuu but we'll try for something more flattering.” She's still laughing as Jared hangs up.

An hour later both girls come through the door and he hugs Danni when he sees the box of Krispy Kremes and a large latte. “Your the best, D.”

“Damn straight and wait until you get a look at these.” She waves bags at him and he tries not to wince when he imagines the price tags. They head back to the studio and both girls are digging through bags, whipping out shirts and pants, suspenders and belts, even a bow tie.

“Really?” Jared asks. “I said an outfit, not a wardrobe.”

Danni shrugs. “Anything we don't want can be returned and I was not about to pass up an opportunity to see that ass parade around in fitted clothes for as long as possible. Those jeans he had on did nothing for him at all.”

The bell over the door tinkles and Jared rushes to the front. He grabs Jensen by the wrist and drags him through the door. He pushes Jensen in front of him as they had back to the girls. “Thank God you got here in the nick of time. I was about to be accosted by too many wardrobe choices.”

Danneel and Genevieve both turn and glare at Jared. Jensen steps back at the foul looks, his back going flush to Jared's chest. Jensen says, “So you're hiding behind me. Who am I supposed to hide behind?”

The rumble of Jensen's voice vibrates through Jared. He puts his hands on Jensen's shoulders, propels him towards the girls. “No hiding for you, small fry. This is your life now. I'll bring the contracts back in a second.”

 

The next several hours – Jensen loses track of how many – are a flurry of clothes changes, endless poses under the sun - because the outside is perfect right now - makeup fixes when Jared's dogs decides to slobber all over him and way too many come-hither looks from Danneel. He's dreading the eventual coming out there. He just doesn't swing that way. When Jensen is sure he can't take another minute, Jared calls a halt and they retreat to a small break room across from Jared's office.

Someone – bless their soul – orders pizza. Since Jared offers and no comment has been made on his weight, Jensen digs in. He'll enjoy it while he can. It's a fact in acting and even more so in modeling that sometimes you have to lose weight, and you should always be body conscious. Jensen gets it - industry standards and all - but he doesn't really believe skinnier is better and some people take it so far it kills them. It's a blurry line between fit and healthy and too damn thin.

Three slices and a beer later Jensen sighs and leans back. Jared's lopsided grin is twitching like he's holding back laughter. “What?”

“You've got - “ Jared reaches over and swipes at his chin, then licks a thumb and repeats the action. “There. Got it.”

Jensen's heart is thudding, a booming bass drum trying to break from his chest. He closes his eyes and sighs, projects his best attempt at hiding how much a casual touch affects him.

Shuffling sounds break through his thoughts and he cracks his eyes to see Genevieve and Danneel cleaning up. He shifts to help, but Genevieve shakes her head. “We've got this.” Jensen nods gratefully and turns his head far enough to make eye contact with Jared. Jared’s looking back, concern and something more intense behind it.

Jared gestures towards his office. “Rest a little. I'm going to upload the files for Gucci and hopefully we'll hear back shortly.”

Jensen nods and closes his eyes, too wiped to do anything but comply.

 

Jared hits send, and everything he's been working towards the last four years is sent across the ocean to the Gucci team with that little push of a button. It's not that he's unsuccessful, but somewhere between picking up that first camera on the Gilmore Girls set and now, he's found his voice, the thing he wants to share with people and he may have the opportunity to do that and nothing else and still continue to support himself and other people. Jared can't imagine anything more satisfying.

The file is image heavy and slow to upload. He goes back to the break room. Genevieve and Danneel must be in the wardrobe/makeup area. Jared puts on a pot of coffee. Jen will need it when he wakes up. Jared shakes his head - _Jen_ \- huh? It kind of feels right but that's not Jared's call. Maybe he'll try it out and see if Jensen is okay with it since his head has decided to settle on it.

Coffee gurgling low, Jared doesn't quite know what to do with himself. He sneaks a glance at Jensen, still passed out on the couch. The man is a dream to work with. He has a sense of humor, patience and an incredible work ethic. They really put him through the ringer this morning, but he never once complained. Jared's fingers itch to get out his camera and click away at sleeping beauty, but he recognizes the creep factor and restrains himself.

Unable to really take his mind off hearing from Italy, Jared imagines some of the things he could do with Jensen. Asleep with his mouth open and soft snores circling the room, Jensen is still incredibly good looking, if a little dorky. Jared likes that touch of humanity. Untouchable beauty is a wonderous thing, but getting to the soft insides will be even better. If Jared can get Jensen to reveal that side of himself, he'll consider it the best success. Jensen had been totally into playing with the pups even if they'd ruined his makeup. He'd chased Sadie and thrown a sloppy ball for Harley. Jared pretty much wanted Jensen to be his best friend forever right then. Loving his dogs was almost as good as loving Jared.

Asleep, Jensen also looks younger, softer. The shell he dons when he’s awake, the one that reads _don't touch me,_ and _you can't make a fool out of me,_ is sloughed off in sleep. That's another thing Jared would like to capture if he can. He’s anxious to get to some of the nudes – a male comparative study to compliment the pictures hanging in the gallery of Sandy. Jared can already imagine some of the back lighting he can do to bring out the curve of muscle running down either side Jensen's spine, and that face in profile will be tantalizing under half lighted shadows. He'll definitely have to do a lace piece and maybe some florals. Like Sandy's pictures, the ambiguity of what you are looking at is the point. Is it feminine, masculine, both, does any of that matter? They’re all questions Jared's trying to get viewers to see.

Jensen twitches on the couch and he sniffs, sniffs again. His voice comes out a deep low burr, “Coffee?”

Jared chuckles and moves to the machine, “How do you take it?”

“Two sugars, no cream.”

Jensen still hasn't opened his eyes; he gropes blindly for the cup Jared holds out. Shaking his head, Jared grabs one of Jensen's wrists and puts the cup in his hand. “Kinda pathetic there, Jen.”

The nickname snaps Jensen's eyes open. “Jen?”

Jared shrugs, looks at his feet.

“Well, beats the hell out of Jenny,” Jensen mumbles.

Jared laughs, “Really?”

“Yeah, my friend Chris thinks it's hilarious. And for the record I am not pathetic. Looking this good all the time is a lot of work and caffeine is my fuel.” Jensen raises his eyebrows and smirks.

“Is Chris the friend you're staying with?” Jared remembers Jensen mentioning that first night that he was staying with friends until he left town.

Jensen nods, blows at his coffee. Jared darts his eyes away from those pursed lips. The bolt of arousal means nothing. Jensen has a fantastic mouth and just because Jared's dick doesn't care if they're attached to a guy doesn't mean the rest of Jared is on board with that plan.

“I am so not looking forward to apartment hunting. Hell, if Gucci comes through I won't really have time, right?”

Jared nods. It's going to be some really long days. “We leave for Milan at the end of next week – so ten days. “

Jensen sits up straighter, rubs at his eyes. “Well, fuck, I may ask to crash on your couch. I'm pretty sure anything is better than Chris's, and I seem to have slept just fine here. I mean – I'm not trying to put you on the spot. I just really hate the thought of another night on that couch and it's not doing my back - ”

“Jensen, shut up.” Jared says it fondly, realizing Jensen rambles a little until he's fully caffeinated. The blush rising up into his cheeks is adorable. “Actually I may have a solution, but it's your call.” Jared realizes he's starting to ramble as well. “We haven't known each other very long.” Funny that – it feels like he's known Jensen forever. “And we're going to be working really close together anyway.”

“Jared, get to the point.”

“It's easier to show you.”

Jared rises, and Jensen follows him with the coffee cup clutched protectively.

They go upstairs and through the living room past the kitchen and around the dividers that separate it from the main living area. Beyond the kitchen is a huge space, bare except for a large king size bed.

“I know it's pretty bare, but it's liveable and you'd have your own bathroom. Jared waves at the bricked off section of the room in the far corner. “Shared kitchen, oh, and look at this,” Jared moves back through the kitchen into the living room. He grabs a remote and flicks a button. The large painting over the wall facing the couches slides aside to reveal Jared's one true indulgence – a seventy inch flat screen. Jensen's eyes widen and glaze over. Jared understands.

“The partitions can be sealed off and there's even a seperate entrance. Also the rent is cheap – free if you need it to be.”

Jensen straightens and all the light leaves his face. “I can take care of myself. Thanks.”

Jared puts his hands up palms out. “No offense. I have no idea what your finances are like. But I do know what I'm paying you and you can pay me back. Okay?”

Tension unwinds from Jensen’s shoulders and he flops back on the couch. “Sorry. I'm okay. Not destitute by any means. I appreciate the offer.” Jensen looks up at him and Jared's breath stutters, hoping that Jensen isn't about to say no, “and it really is perfect. If we hate each other I can move out later right?” Jared nods. “So you got any games for this monstrosity or is it just for show.?”

Jared moves to the cabinet that sits below the big screen he opens one of the hinged drawers to reveal his Wii. “So should I kick your ass at Mario Kart or Donkey Kong?”

Jensen leans back arms outstretched on the couch. “Oh so you think you got this, Padalecki? How about a wager?”

Jared tilts his head, “What d'ya have in mind?'

“Mario Kart. Best three of five. If I win you make me espresso in that sweet machine in your kitchen every morning for a week?”

“And if I win?”

Jensen raises an eyebrow, slouches a little and says, “What do you want?”

The heat rushes up Jared's neck into his hairline. If Jensen was a girl he'd know he was getting hit on, but in this situation he's clueless, and he can't think of any nice way to ask outright, so he lets it drop. “If I lose you get up and walk the dogs every morning while I sleep in. '

“I can already taste that espresso. Hand me a controller.”

Jared rummages through another drawer and grabs two controllers.

They're about to start the fifth game, after tying at two and two when Jared's phone rings.

“Jared?” Jared immediately recognizes the voice on the other end and he fumbles for the remote to hit the volume off as it continues, “It is Alessandro. We got the files. Is there any chance that piece of gorgeousness, Jensen, is there with you?”

“Um, yeah. He's right here.”

“Good. Can you put us on speaker. I have some news that I think you both will love.”

Jared taps the speaker button and puts the phone on the coffee table. “It's on.”

“Hello, Jensen.“

“Hello.”

“Where have you been hiding your divine self? It's hard to believe no other designer has snatched you up?'

Jared sees Jensen's awkward shift and answers for him. “He's been working in television, mostly.”

“Ah, That makes sense. Send us his résumé. It will be good to check up, but not to keep you in suspense. We will see you in Milan in ten days. And, Jensen my pet, I have adjusted my line-up to get several other models that are equally wonderful but unexpected. I was very lucky to book Velvet d'Amour right from under Gaultier. This will be a show Milan will talk about for years.”

“Um, thanks.” Jensen shoots Jared a look that says _I've got nothing to say to that._

“It is nothing, mi bello.. Jared?”

“Here.”

“I will have my people fax you details, but we need Jensen's measurements as soon as possible.”

“I'll have Danni do it right now and fax them over.”

“It will be lovely to see you in person, my muse. Ciao.”

The line goes silent and Jensen says, “Muse?”

Jared knows he's not asking for the definition of the word. He nods. “Alessandro has been shaping fashion for Gucci for decades. Rumor has it that he may be banching into his own house. He must have seen something in you that inspired him. To change his lineup less than twenty days before a show it’s almost unheard of.”

Danneel and Genevieve rush up the stairs and into the room, questions flying off their lips.

Jared asks, “How much did you guys hear?”

Danneel answers, “Enough to know I need to drag this fellow off and feel him up.” She grabs Jensen's wrist and Jared hears her asking, “So do you dress right or left, Jensen?” He can't see Jensen's face but Danneel's cackle tells him everything he needs to know.

 

Danneel takes him to a room that's approximately under where he'll be sleeping. Fabrics are strewn about and there's a couple of salon chairs in one corner with hair dryers attached. And four make up stations with lighting against one wall. Rows and rows of clothing and props on rolling carts take up about half the large space.

“Welcome to the hair and makeup room. This is where Genevive and I brew up looks for Jared's visions. Don't let him fool you though. We're just the helping hands. He's the genius. In fact most of this stuff in here was purchased by him. If I tell you something can you keep it to yourself?”

Jensen has no idea how to answer that.

Danneel doesn't let his silence stop her. “Jared's an estate sale junkie. Genevieve and I both try to stop his hoarding tendencies, but he just says if he needs something and passed it up he'll hate himself and nothing else will measure up. You guys were playing video games right?”

Jensen nods.

“Well if you really want to make Jared happy, just ask him about his vintage game collection or, even better, offer to play with him.”

“Why would I want to make Jared happy?” Jensen winces. The defensive tone is strong in his words, a total giveaway.

“Oh honey, we all want to make Jared happy. But that boys is all heart eyes for the lovely Sandy.”

At Jensen's questioning look Danneel says, “The model in the current exhibit and Jared's long term girlfriend”

_Figures_. No one as good looking and nice as Jared would be single if they didn't want to be.

“He dated Genevieve for a while but they found they make better friends than lovers.“

Jensen should probably stop all the gossiping right now, but he wants to know every little tidbit he can weasel out of Danneel. After all, he's going to be living with the guy. Really, he should know what he's getting himself into.

“So how long have they been together?” Danneel hustles him onto a small platform and gets down on her knees to start measuring.

“Okay serious this time, which way do you dress. Milan will need me to take it into account.”

“Left and I'm a little larger than normal, so a little extra room is good.”

Danneel raises her eyebrows up and down. “You sure know how to sweet talk a girl, Jensen.”

He blushes and Danneel cackles again. “Relax, Jen. I'm a hopeless flirt but it's pretty clear you don't swing my way.”

Jensen stiffens and it gets him a swat to the knee. “Relax. And no, it's not obvious. I just have super gaydar. But if you really want to keep it under wraps try not to stare at Jared like he's an all you can eat steak.”

“Obvious, huh?”

“Nope.” She looks at him, soft smile curving her pink lips. “I'm observant. It helps a lot with what I do to understand the comfort levels of my models and how far I can stretch them.“ The grin shining up at him is infectious and Jensen grins back. “He and Sandy have been together since his Gilmore Girl days. She was a PR date and they stuck. It's kind of sickeningly cute. They're all about settling down and becoming old married people already.“

A frown pushes wrinkles into her brow and Jensen can't help but ask, ”You don't approve?”

Danneel shakes her head. She taps his arms so she can measure his waist after noting the measurements for his hips. “Do you know your rise?”

Jensen doesn&#39;t even know what the hell that is. He shakes his head no.

She gestures at his crotch. “Inseam to waist. Can I?'

Jensen nods and spreads his legs a little, tries to ignore the little tingle that crawls through him when she brushes his balls.

Danneel snorts. “Sorry.” Yeah, she's not, at all. Laughter pops out of him. He likes her and he knows somehow that all her teasing is just that, no intent or meanness behind it. It's nice, welcoming. Jensen thinks he might really like this job, and he still wants to know why Danneel never answered his question about Sandy.

 

 

  
NOTE: I messed up and this is the right header for this Chapter - I gave my artist the wrong info. :(

 _When you're doing exactly what you want to do, it's not tiring. You've been planting these seeds, and finally, you have a full garden in bloom; you're like, 'Oh, I just want to smell the flowers and play among the flowers all day.' That's what I'm doing. I'm playing among the flowers._  
~ Colman Domingo

Jared wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans. He tugs at the lace curtains he’s hung over the window. The sunlight gleams through, painting scallops and trellises over the wooden floor. It’s the same place he used for Sandy’s shoot - another one of his rooms over the studio proper, back behind the area Jensen is using as a bedroom. Natural sunlight, melding with battered wood and weathered brick are perfect - neither obviously feminine or inherently masculine.

He paces the perimeter with a light meter and double-checks to make sure he has the  
reflection screens and props handy. Jensen should be here in about fifteen minutes. A morning audition left him free for the afternoon - probably the only one they’ll get before leaving for Italy. Final fittings have taken up most of Jensen's work hours as outfits have arrived for final fittings from Milan.

Jared’s laid out the cock sock for Jensen and provided a changing screen. He sort of avoids looking at the garment that will hide Jensen’s privates, but it keeps taking up residence in the corner of his eye. This isn’t even close to his first nude shoot. They’re usually pretty smooth as Jared tries to help the model relax with lame jokes and small talk. He knows some photographers take advantage of a model’s nudity, so Jared works extra hard to make sure his models feel safe.

This shoot isn’t any different, but he can’t put aside the pacing, the re-checks of equipment - checks he’s done umpteen times already.

Taking a deep breath he heads into the kitchen. He walks around the island and goes on his tiptoes and puts his hands in the very top shelf of the top cabinet. He rummages past the paper towels and mac-n’-cheese boxes. His fingers run over plastic and he clutches at his emergency stash. After shoving a handful of gummies in his mouth he tells himself, _it’s not a big deal._ Jared’s done plenty of nude shots. _But never of a guy,_ his mind helpfully supplies.

Jared’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he checks his messages.

On my way. I need coffee!

A laugh bursts from Jared. He’s never seen anyone down coffee like Jensen and still be able to take a fifteen minute catnap on demand. It’s a little scary if Jared’s honest. You never quite know when Jensen’s one hundred percent there or off in dreamland. Jared pulls out the Kona blend they picked up on a grocery run last night and dumps some in the grinder.

 

Jensen says nothing as he walks into the loft, dumping his briefcase on the couch and following it down himself, espresso already half gone.

“Bad audition?” Jared asks

Jensen shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “You could say that. This was almost a sure thing. My friend - producer David Nutter - got me in as this younger brother on this urban style horror show. I was supposed to play the younger brother Sam, but after I got the script they told me they really liked Milo V. for Sam and liked me better as Dean. I went in today and it was me and Milo V. You know him.” Jared nods, they’d been love rivals on Gilmore Girls. “So we do the read and it just didn’t click, you know. No chemistry at all.” Jensen sighs, leans back and flops his head on the couch. “Apparently they had Chad Michael Murray read for Dean and on the drive home I was told they put him in for Dean instead. So I’m bummed.”

“Damn, that sucks.”

Jensen tips his head and his mouth quirks at the edge. “Well it’s a genre show on the WB, probably won’t make it past a one season run anyway.” He tips his cup in a salute and Jared mock clinks back as Jensen downs the espresso.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You already did.”

“Ha-ha,” Jensen’s lip curls at the corner then turns down, “No seriously.”

“Yeah, anything. I am about to see all your skin so it’s fair. I mean - ” Jared drops his sentence. He really can’t think of anything he’d want to hold back from Jensen. “Shoot.”

“How’d you do all this?” Jensen waves his hand around indicating the loft and studio. “You’re what, 22?”

Jared leans back against the couch, then shifts forward again hands clasped between his open legs. His gaze, when it catches Jensen's is intense, but open. “After Gilmore Girls and even as it was running towards the end I was getting a lot of people wanting to cast me in horror stuff. It wasn’t what I really wanted to do and after Micheal put a camera in my hand I took off running. I had my first photo shoot in a behind-the-scenes article on _Gilmore Girls._ I loved showing Alexis and Lauren having a quiet girl talk on set as if they really were more like mother and daughter than the almost friends they played on screen. I shot Milo smoking after an emotionally rough take, and Melissa McCarthy in the chair pre-makeup. The article was great but the pictures told a story - that intimate feeling you get on set - like your family, but it’s not forever and everyone knows it and there’s tension and caring and fights and jealous, but also tenderness and intimacy and love. It was so awesome and I realized looking at those photos that I wanted to do this. I wanted to tell a story in pictures that not everyone can see. I still act occasionally - mostly stage stuff and some performance art. I still love it, but more as a hobby.

“Huh. Your IMDB doesn’t show anything after Gilmore Girls.” Jensen looks at the bottom of his cup. Jared guesses he’s debating a refill.

“You IMDB’d me?”

Jensen's eyes brow says, “Duh?”

Jared chuckles. “It’s not my main gig but with the people I meet something comes along now and then that I really want to do. To answer your initial question - the money from GG along with a loan from my parents was enough to get this set up. Property in WeHo was dirt cheap at the time before the hipsters started moving in. I got really lucky with Michael Price being my mentor and he hooked me up with some gigs and that article on Gilmore Girls. The article got some attention and that got the ball rolling. I’ve been able to pay the bills - mostly - and have some left over. Some months are tighter than others, but right now I have a nice sum in savings. This Milan thing will pay off the amount I still owe on this space plus take care of most expenses for the next five years, which is how long it takes a business to fail. I can’t imagine going back to full time acting even if that happens. I never want to be the Claude Van Damme of mainstream horror flicks, you know?”

Jensen nods, “Yeah. Getting typecast sucks. I mean the steady pay and work is awesome, but I really got into this because I like the challenge of bringing a story to life.”

“I get that. I guess it’s why photography grabbed me. I get to tell a story, but unlike with acting I’m telling my story - something that’s important to me. I love what I do now and wouldn’t go back.”

Jensen stares at him, hands hugging his empty cup but doesn’t say anything.

“You know if you’re not up to this, “ Jared says, “we can postpone the shoot until another time.”

Jensen scoffs, eyebrow raised. “Are you kidding? Work will take my mind off this. I don’t want to dwell on it.

 

While Jensen changes, Jared arranges his props. He’d tried out a bunch of things when he’d shot Sandy and has mostly chosen items to mirror her shots, but has also picked a few things that he thinks will highlight Jensen’s feminine side. For Sandy he’d used these vintage stencils in tribal patterns and a wood grain stencil to play with masculinity.

“Well, you ready?” Jared turns at the sound of Jensen’s voice and is struck dumb. Jensen ducks his head and scratches at the back of his neck.The tips of his ears are pink-tinted. “Um, figured the robe coming off and on would just slow us down. Might as well get the awkward out of the way and go all out from the beginning.”

Jensen is a good looking guy. _Duh._ How Jared never noticed he was hotter than Southern California in a heat wave strikes him mute - a condition Jared is never afflicted with. Jensen stands there, hands curled at his sides, sunlight striking stark contrasts against the planes and angles of his shoulders and belly; his cock thick in its cover and his hairs turned to a corona of gold. He is beatific and yet somehow also an invitation to debauchery. Jared would have to be so straight he’d never even heard of the Kinsey scale not to think Jensen is sexy as fuck.

Jared opens his mouth intent on breaking his staring at the utter hotness that is Jensen, instead all he manages is a cough. Jensen steps closer, which was not what Jared had in mind at all. Jensen touching him right now would take the curl of lust in his groin and turn it into a conflagration. He forces his mind to think about what it should be focused on and not on getting a good look at Jensen’s backside, _Work, girlfriend, work_. He flails out a hand and smacks straight into the abs Jared is trying not to think about.

Jared pulls back and Jensen’s brows are furrowed in concern. Jared fakes another cough, because blurting out his observance of Jensen’s complete sexy, hot, gorgeousness, would end him no place good.

“You sure you’re okay man?” Jensen asks.

Jared nods and finally pulls together some words. “Yeah. Probably dust. Haven’t been in this room in a while.” _Oh, god._ The beauty that is Jensen Ackles has fried his brain. He’s literally been working in here for two hours straight.

Jensen nods and accepts his answer, thankfully. “So, where do you want me?”

Dying, Jared literally wishes for his own death. Can’t the floor kindly open and swallow  
him now? He’s not having thoughts of Jensen spread out on his bed. _Nope. Not at all._ Jared turns away and grabs the first camera he can find to keep his hands busy. He’s a professional - thank you very much - and he can fucking act like it. His back towards Jensen he says, “Pick a pose you’re pretty comfortable in and just sit up against the wall. I’m going to set up some reflectors and do a light check.”

Jared quickly places the reflectors and checks the light calibrator. He does some minor adjustments to sharpen the shadows he wants to capture keeping Jensen, who has taken to sitting on the floor in the corner of his eye. He wants to start with the Canon Eos so he grabs it from the table and turns to check his composition.

Jared’s usually good at this part, loosening a model up with a joke or impersonal but thoughtful questions, but every trick he has crawls back down his throat as he brings the camera to his eye and kneels to get Jensen in frame. His pose is modest, legs crossed, arms folded across his knees. Jared doesn’t overthink it, afraid to lose what he sees through the lens; he starts shooting, slightly changing the angle as he takes several test shots. This, right here, is why he talked to Jensen that night, why he was so desperate to get him into the studio.

Vulnerable youth shines from Jensen; he looks about seventeen. Jared swallows and his finger clicks. Jen’s eyes are a hidden doorway of mystery, he definitely is no stranger to how he affects people; his stare is direct yet there are depths shuttered under that direct gaze. His muscles are on display and the curve of his ass peeks from behind feet that are somehow rugged and unprotected at the same time. Altogether Jared gets a sense of a person bared beyond the simple fact of nakedness.

When Jared's satisfied with the pre-shots, he starts setting up the shades at the window. He still can’t think of anything to fix the silence, so he focuses on setting up the first shots through a slatted blind. Whie he adjusts the blind, he directs Jensen without looking at him.

“So I’m going to be attempting that same sort of gender ambiguity I went for in Sandy’s shots. I want to have you start standing up against the wall.” Jared grabs the Canon again. When he turns Jensen is pressed face first to the wall, palms to either side of his head. The shadows from the blind are creating mysteries of his face and hands. Jared starts clicking. He directs Jensen through several shots, quiet music shushing in the background. Some of the shots are good, but there’s an awkwardness that Jared can’t seem to get around and a lack of originality in the shading. Jensen is stiff and too often the look Jensen presents is come-hither eyes at the camera, which is sexy as hell, but not what Jared wants from this.

Jared switches to the lace covering for the window and loves the golden tome it’s adding to the room, but the awkwardness isn’t going anywhere and Jared doesn’t know how to fix it.

Without giving it too much thought Jared lobs a gummy he had tucked into his pocket at Jensen’s chest which is arched out in the latest pose. It smacks and slides down as Jensen's eyes widen, then narrow. He grabs the gummy and throws it at Jared’s camera, which Jared shields with his body and gets hit right in the ass. Jensen starts laughing. Jared turns and clicks off a dozen or so shots. Without checking his previews he knows he has the shot he needs.

“Help me with the next prop?” Jared asks.

As they both grab a large stencil with a floral print cut into it, Jensen says, “Gummies? Really, what are you, dude, twelve?”

Jared deadpans. “I’m offended. I clearly have the complex maturity of a thirteen-year-old.”

They both grin, eyes locked as they clip the stencils onto the booms. Jensen assumes a flat position on the floor arms flung wide and Jared gets on a step ladder to get the angle he wants. WIth the tension broken everything else falls into place. Jensen poses, Jared clicks: pose, click, repeat. Occasionally Jared gives a minute direction, or Jensen will ask about a shift in position or make a suggestion. It’s as if they are water and oil, flowing and shifting naturally into an array of artistic patterns.

With intuition that comes from having been behind the lens of thousands of photos, Jared knows that these pictures might be the best he’s ever taken. Even as the light wanes, Jared keeps them working, not ready to break whatever this chemistry is they have going. He’s never experienced anything quite like it and is afraid he never will again - that it’s simply a giant cosmic fluke.

 

Jensen is about to ask for a break when he hears “Hey, Jared. I brought you some - ” Sandy’s voice is loud and her heels click against the harwood of the floor.

Jensen’s hands come down protectively over his privates and he’s regretting not bringing the robe closer instead of leaving it behind the changing screen.

Sandy’s eyes start at his feet and run up, then back down before settling on his mouth. “You must be Jensen.” She sticks out her hand.

Even if he wasn’t leery of the predatory look in her eyes, he isn’t about to leave his dangly bits swinging to make polite with Jared's girlfriend. Jensen turns to let Jared know he’s mad as hell. He was promised a closed shoot.

Before he can get the words out Jared yells, “What the fuck, Sandy?” He grabs her elbow, puts the take out bag on the table, and steers her toward the entryway. Jared’s voice fades but Jensen can still hear him. “You knew I was shooting Jensen today and you know I don’t let anyone into a shoot that the model hasn’t signed off on.”

Jesen doesn’t hear what Sandy says, only Jared’s reply, “I wouldn’t care if you were the fucking Queen of England. This is a closed set.”

Sandy’s raises her voice now. “I figured you’d be done by now. Lately you’ve been Jensen this, and Jensen that. Of course I’m curious about him. Your clearly taken by him and haven’t let me meet him yet.” Her voice lowers and the tone is sweet, “Really I thought you would have finished up by now, babe. You know I’d never crash set on purpose.”

Jensen scoffs to himself. He doesn’t buy it for a second. She could have easily called out before entering the studio area. From the quieter tones Jensen gathers Jared does believe her. The last thing he hears before Jared comes back is Jared saying, “I’ll call you later tonight.”

Jared’s footsteps grow louder as he comes back and Jensen can’t decide whether to rant at Jared or let the whole incident go. Before he can decide Jared says, “First, I’m really sorry. She shouldn’t have come in here.”

“You don’t have to apologize for her, Jared. What’s done is done.” Jensen expects to get an apology from Sandy about the same time as hell freezes over. He hasn’t even met her and he doesn’t like her. He’s not the jealous type but he’s honest enough to recognize it for what it is. He’s got no right to it either. He blows out his breath and quirks his lips, “What’s the second thing?”

“Uh - well - ” Jared holds up a tube of lipstick. “Sandy was wearing this candy red lipstick and I couldn’t help thinking that it’d look great on you.” Jared’s words speed up. “I mean, for a photo shoot, if it’s okay with you. I mean - ”

Jensen hold his palm out flat, facing Jared and purses his mouth. Jared’s stumbling voice dies into quiet. Jared looks lost, a kid whose comfort toy has disappeared.

Jensen rolls his eyes and says, “Just kidding, dude, yeah, we can do that.” The grin he gets in return is everything Jensen can imagine wanting in life.

Jared tells him he wants to have these done clothed for the test shots and they move downstairs to the makeup room where Jared adjusts some of the lights in the ceiling and Jensen gets changed.

Jared pulls out a barstool and gestures for Jensen to sit on it. “So you think you can do this or you want me to do it?

“Dude, I might be gay, but drag isn’t my scene.” He can hear the defensiveness in his voice, but he doesn’t know how to turn it off. Still, at least after coming out to Jared earlier in the week, he can be himself.

Jared holds up a hand, palm out and shakes his head backing away, “No worries and no assumptions. Normally I’d have Danni do it, but since she’s out for the closed shoot it’s either you or me and a lot of models prefer to do their own.”

Air exhales loudly from Jensen’s mouth, “Sorry, I get a lot of assumptions based on my looks.”

“Yeah with those girly lashes and cock-sucking lips, I get that.” Jared is deadpan as hell, but his eyes crinkle, giving away the tease..

“Fuck you Padalecki, what you doing thinking about my lips anyway.”

Jared’s quiet for a split second and his lips part on a pause before he says, “Well, as your photographer it’s my job to catalog every one of your sexy bits, baby.”

“Whatever, loser, get over here and lipstick me already.”

As soon as Jared’s fingers touch his chin, chuffing against a day’s worth of stubble, Jensen realizes he should have put it on himself.

His heart hammers against his ribcage and he has to think about taking breaths - slow and easy. He hides his eyes with lowered lashes afraid Jared will see the want in them.

Jared’s thumb pushes at his lower lip and hot breath caresses his cheek. “Open your mouth, Jen. Can’t get it on proper otherwise.” Jensen’s sure the Texas in the words and the slightly shaking hands are wishful thinking on his part. _Damn_ He’s going to have to be careful not to let this one steal his heart. The voice in his head warns him it may already be too late.

Jensen's not really sure where ten days went. His stuff slowly moved from storage with Chris and Steve bringing things over a bit at a time. They'd both got on with Jared like they'd been bros from high school. Not that Jensen is surprised. Danni's right, everyone wants to make Jared happy.

Jared put on a small backyard barbeque to welcome him, steak and corn on the cob. Chris and Steve played some tunes and Chris couldn't take his eyes off of Danneel. Somehow everyone fit, like they’d had a hundred parties before and this was another one in the stream of more to come.

Jared was a bit of a child - not that it came as a surprise after gummy worms and video games, but Jensen hadn’t expected the pranks. He short sheeted Jensen's bed that first night and put salt in his coffee one morning. After Jensen had paid him back with hiding his favorite camera, Jared had understood that coffee was sacred and not to be used as a measure of jesting.

Jensen tries to close his eyes - in truth he’s not sleepy - but it keeps Jensen from staring at those long capable fingers clicking commands and mousing across images editing the nude shots last week. Jensen’s gotten to see Jared do digital work before and he actually enjoys the process, but looking at himself on the screen as Jared crops and changes the range of darks and lights is a little bizarre.

Closing his eyes isn’t really a refuge. The conversation he’d had with Jared a few days ago decides to go on replay - and not for the first time. Coming out to anyone is never easy and what he’d learned about Jared has seeped into his hardened little heart and struck a spark of hope - a flickering light Jensen has no business nurturing.

> Jared had been going over the time table and booking information for the trip. It was just the two of them, hanging on the couch and finishing off some Chinese. Jensen was only half listening, wiped from a day of tailoring and standing as Danneel flitted around him in a tither over her final prep before sending out some piecework to Milan. He wasn’t sure how he’d have the energy for an audition and the photoshoot Jared had planned for tomorrow.
> 
> “So is that okay?” Jared asked.
> 
> “Huh?”
> 
> Jared grinned, shaking his head, “I said ’To keep the budget down I have the girls sharing a room and us sharing a room. I can probably squeeze out a third room if sharing is weird for you.”
> 
> Jensen was suddenly wide awake, heart thundering in his chest. He wasn’t going to get a better opportunity to out himself and Jared had a right to know if they were sharing sleeping space.
> 
> “Um,” Jensen darted his eyes away and rolled the hem of his t-shirt in his fingers. He looked back at Jared and saw nothing but patience and kindness in his new friend’s eyes. “I’m gay, so I should probably be asking you if it’s a problem to share.”
> 
> Jensen blurted it out, voice defensive even as he tried to be even-toned, and averted his gaze, breath held, waiting for Jared.
> 
> He startled when Jared’s hand tentatively cupped his shoulder. “Hey, Jen, look at me.”
> 
> Jensen was already trained to respond to that tone, soft and understanding, but he couldn’t bear to look. He’d lost more than a few people to his sexual identity and faced revulsion and wrath from others. He wasn’t budging, locking his eyes on the interplay between fingers and fabric.
> 
> Jared surprised him again, going down on his knees and forcing Jensen to look at him. He grabbed Jensen's hands to stop their fidgeting and waited for Jensen to gulp in air. Jensen wasn’t sure what he saw, but there was nothing negative there. A smile crept across Jared’s lips, tiny and with a rueful curl. “I’m really glad you trusted me with this. Your not even close to being the first gay person I’ve been friends with and I promise it won’t make me treat you any differently. It’d make me a hypocrite anyway to hate you for being gay.”
> 
> “You’re gay?” Jensen asks. His entire being is posed waiting on the precipice of Jared’s answer - and what about Sandy - because really great guys like Jared aren’t the kind Jensen usually gets a shot at.
> 
> Jared breaks eye contact, stands and paces the length of the couch and back before sitting down next to Jensen again. He runs a hand through his hair and looks up at Jensen through his bangs. He shrugs, mouth twisted thin, and says, “I don’t know… I mean I guess I’d say I’m bi-curious. His mouth twitches a little and his eyes dart away from Jensen then back. “I never really thought about it much and have always dated girls.”
> 
> Jared leans back against the couch, runs both hands through his hair leaving behind a tousled mess. “I think maybe I first thought about it back in my high school days. I was doing a interpretive dramatic duet with another boy and we just got on so well and I definitely noticed his legs and ass in his basketball shorts, but it never went anywhere. Texas, you know.” Jared leans in, eyes on Jensen’s. “Once I got out here I got propositioned by both sexes, but a lot of the guys were only looking for hidden quickies or something clandestine. A lot of the ladies too, honestly. That’s never been my gig. I’m a relationship person. So that’s a long way of saying, I’ve got no problem with it.”
> 
> Jared’s smile is tentative and Jensen can’t live with that. He’s pretty much figured out he’s doomed to doing everything in his power to make Jared laugh and smile as much as possible. A happy Jared kindles warmth and something that resembles home into his own chest. “Well, I’m sure I’ll be a temptation to you, but try and remember you’ve got a girlfriend and I’m not easy.”
> 
> Jared shakes his head and lets out a low laugh. “Fuck you Ackles, you know you can’t resist all this.” He rubs his hands up and down his torso and leers. It’s Jensen's turn to laugh.
> 
> Their laughter fades to happy smiles and Jensen says more seriously. “Thanks for letting me know. I know a few bi folk and it can be difficult accepting that other part of you when straight is the automatic presumption.”
> 
> Jared nods, “Yeah I really have never had a reason to explore. I’ve serial dated girls since high school, but I try to be honest with myself. “
> 
> Jensen had been so tired at the time he hadn’t really thought about Jared’s admission. Swept away by relief at his own confession he’d stumbled off to bed with thoughts of Jared’s espresso machine churning in his head.

Now he has nothing to distract him and the tantalizing idea that Jared could be sexually or romantically interested in him is something he knows he shouldn’t dwell on. It’s like eating all of his mama’s chocolate chip cookies or probing a sore tooth with his tongue, somehow irresistible but sure to end no place good. 

He shifts in his seat and scrunches the too tiny airline pillow under his head. A list of why he can’t have Jared scrolls through his head as he ticks off reasons not to let himself fall for the best person he’s ever met. Jared is Sandy’s no matter how bi-curious he thinks he is. Jensen would never help someone cheat. They work together and work romances are death. He values Jared’s friendship too much to fuck it up.

Jensen’s excuses are interrupted by one of Jared’s hands around his head and the other tucking another pillow next to the one he’s using. Warmth travels right from Jensen’s center all the way to his hands and feet. Excuses or no excuses he’s well and truly fucked.

Jensen turns his body away from Jared and looks out the window, at the carpet of clouds underneath the wings of the plane. Jared's still tapping away beside him. His week may have been a whirlwind, but he's not sure Jared managed more than a few hours sleep any single night.

Across the aisle Genevieve and Danneel are playing hangman. Jensen yawns and stretches. He wonders what Milan will be like.

 

 

 

NOTE: I messed up and this is the right header for this Chapter - I gave my artist the wrong info. :(

 _"I have always loved tartans - such an ornamented type of weaving, so vivid in colour, and such a masculine aspect. But actually, I think tartans can be feminine or masculine."_ ~ Christian Louboutin

It turns out the only parts of Milan Jensen sees the first handful of days are the hotel and the Gucci studio. The fittings are endless, with last minute embellishments being added even as tucks and seams are being edited elsewhere. The chatter and lilt of Italian surrounds him.

Including Danneel there are three people working on him at any given time. Turns out Danneel is somewhat fluent in Italian, but he's sure she's not interpreting half of what's being said. There's far too many side looks and too many giggles, laughs, and chuckles going on for the tedious things she explains about fabric and sewing.

In between being stuck with pins, he mostly lounges around in a robe and drinks Italian coffee, which he will definitely need to be taking back by the boatload. If he’s already inquired about how to ship several pounds of fresh roasted beans across the Atlantic, that’s nobody's business but his.

Jared's gone from dawn to dusk scouting locations for the after-show shoots of the entire line. Jensen will only be doing six looks for the show – even if it feels like a hundred, but for the Vogue Italia and website promotion he is being used almost exclusively.

Alessandro occasionally skitters into the studio. He exchanges a few words with Jensen, spins around, tilts his head, moves his arms and then rushes off to wherever. Jensen isn't entirely sure what all of that's about, but he's not the only model getting that treatment.

He's been assigned his own dressing room, but the seamstresses seem to prefer if he stays in the studio so they don't have to go hunting for him, so he does. The best parts of the day are when Jared texts him pictures from his explorations: sun-drenched shots of grape fields, waves breaking against giant gray rocks. The shots are always tantalizing, never giving away the entire location, like a promise of something Jensen could almost touch through the screen.

For his part, Jensen shares snippets of conversations and some of the more interesting web locations that the Italian staff has shared with him. One model, Lissa, shows him some portfolio work that he knows Jared will love. They're dark fairytale shots and the models have rat's nest hair and obscured faces.

A lot of the time he's plain bored, but he catnaps as he can, while falling asleep almost as soon as he's out of the shower at night. For not being particularly physical work, it leaves him more than ready for sleep.

 

 

On Jared’s first day scouting, looking out over a rising stretch of land, with waves breaking and crashing up on rugged boulders, he gets a text from Jensen.

{{{I’m bored}}}

Jared smiles and thinks all this rugged location lacks is Jensen to make it photo perfect - a man bound with nature, fortress and solitude, a man at one with the turbulence of the natural elements. Jared can see it in his head: Jensen stoic and masculine against the surf. So he takes a few shots and sends them off to several people who need to see them and CC's Jensen. He sends one to Sandy too.

Sandy texts back in the next few minutes with a cute puppy meme and a kiss emoticon. He’s not disappointed not to hear from Jensen. He’ll keep telling himself that until it’s true.

Except, Jensen does return his message a few hours later.

{{{Sorry, had to get into a fitting.}}}}

Attached to the message is a picture of Jensen on a pedestal and Danneel with pins in her mouth.

{{{Check out this website. The artist is one of the models here. She’s super talented. Think you’ll like her work.}}}}

Several more texts follow.

{{{I asked around after you sent that pic and here are some Google Map links of locations the staff here think might work out for you.}}}

Over the next five days the messages between them are almost a conversation as if somehow they just get each other. Jared's send pics of vineyards and Jensen sends him wines that the locals have recommended. Jared finds this old ruin of a farm and Jensen sends him amazing images of one of the models on set.

Jared's creativity is on fire and he hopes to have some free time to actually do some photo work here. The light is amazing – so different from California – and he wants to shoot Jensen in it, drenched in golds that will play along his freckles and highlight his green eyes.

On his last day scouting, Jared checks his directions - the location is new to public bookings and doesn’t register on Google. He has handwritten notes based on what locals have told him. He’s stopped three times for directions and driven for three hours. He makes a turn onto a rutted road. As he tops a hill, the B&B he 's looking for comes into sight. It's an old castle that abuts the coast. He rolls the rental car over the rocky drive and parks under a slatted overhang. The place is perfect, not for the shoot, but for a little side trip he has planned. They've got two days between the runway show and the start of the photo shoot, and he thinks all of them deserve at least a couple of days of R and R.

 

 

Jensen's stomach flutters as Genevieve does one last touch up on his hair. Jared rubs his shoulders and leans in to be heard above the backstage bustle. “You're going to kill this. I know it.” Jensen believes him, but he's still nervous. He's never walked a runway in his life and he's both starting and ending a major show. Alessandro had seemed thrilled with him yesterday, and had told him to relax and be himself. Considering the outfit he has on, that's going to be damn near impossible without calling on some good old fashioned acting.

Jensen can't imagine himself ever wearing anything like what he has on. For that matter he can't imagine anyone wearing anything like it. The bottom is half kilt, half pants. The shirt is a loud floral print covered by a red knit vest. And a bright red tie. The whole thing is topped off with a long robe. He feels a bit like Obi-wan but instead of woven cloth, it's head to toe black fur, fake of course.

His hair is a bright streak of red pulled up into a faux hawk and his eyes are under-stroked with a heavy line of black, underscored by two thinner lines of red and gold. He barely recognizes himself.

Jared's hands on his shoulders are soothing, but slip away as the celtic remix plays on the loudspeakers. The lights cue and the stage manager signals him to stage.

The two inch heels on his workman boots give a moments pause and he almost stumbles, but then he's down the runway, stop, turn, pose, remove the cape, drag it back to the beginning and there's his breath, the one he's been holding.

Jared's grinning like a loon and Jensen grins back, an adrenaline high coursing through his blood. Hands are all over him for the outfit change and a new hair color. One for every outfit. It's green this time, accompanied by another plaid that is practically the entire outfit in intricate folds and tucks, Jensen hopes the damn thing stays on. When he hits the end of the runway Jared's there with his camera documenting his walk.

The next four changes fly by, Jared always in his peripheral view, hopping from backstage to crowd, catching both the show and the behind the scenes action.

For the last look he sports a blue mohawk and the tightest skinny pants he’s ever worn. “The better to show off those divine bowlegs, my cherie.” Alessandro had said.

After he walks the last outfit, Jensen is joined on stage by Alessandro and Velvet to thunderous applause. The blood pumps through Jensen’s veins, his brain floats overlooking a scene that plays silently as if his ears have left the party. It's almost as good a high as doing performance work.

 

 

Jared watches Jensen all through the show, snapping pictures of him and the other models. Jensen looks like he's been doing this for years. Pride rises up in Jared’s chest expanding his ribcage until he has to exhale all the extra emotion. It's hard to believe he stumbled over Jensen a mere three weeks ago by complete accident.

The show wraps and Jared gets some shots of Jensen's beaming face at the end of the runway. He hustles backstage and meets Jensen as he comes off the runway. Jared doesn't think, he grabs Jensen up in both arms and hugs him tight. Jensen hesitates, stiff in his arms but then his arms enfold Jared. Danneel and Genevieve puppy pile them and it's general laughter and congratulations all around.

Alessandro comes over and kisses Jensen's cheek. “You were spectacular. You will have more offers than you can count and I don't mean just for work.” He winks at Jensen and Jared doesn't understand why he finds it irritating. “There is a limousine out front to take you to the after party. Of course your lovely and talented assistants,” Alessandro pauses to raise and kiss first Danneel's hand then Genevieve’s, “are welcome to come as well.”

It's not truly an invitation, at least not for Jared or Jensen. Both of them have social events written into their contracts. This part of the work tops Jared’s list of things he’d rather not do and from the tight press of Jensen's lips he's guessing he's not alone. But social events are as much a part of the job as the rest of, Jared wishes it wasn't necessary.

 

 

Jensen's done a few Hollywood red carpets and upfronts, so he knows how this goes. Genevieve and Danneel seem to be snooping into every corner of the limousine and have already popped a bottle of champagne.

“Okay, I hate to be the bad guy, but everyone take it easy on the alcohol tonight. This is still work,” Jared says.

Danneel wrinkles up her nose and Genevieve tosses back half of her first glass while flipping Jared the finger.

Jared looks at Jensen. “See what I have to put up with?”

Their limo pulls up right behind Alessandro's and he waits to help Jensen from the car, with Velvet already on his arm. They pause several times on the carpet for photographs. There are even a few questions for Jensen spoken in accented English. Most of them are questions about his upcoming work with Gucci. Alessandro answers for him.

Jared's ahead of them being questioned about his art photography and as Jensen passes by Jared grabs his shoulder pulls him in to his side and keeps talking with the reporter. “This is my current muse.”

The reporter smiles at him, “Yes, Alessandro's new model as well yes?”

Jared nods. “We have a lot of exciting projects planned this year, but,” Jared smiles beguilingly at the reporter, “I'm not allowed to tell you everything.”

“You will be shooting the promotions in local Italian countryside, if my sources are right.”

“Yes, we will. These designs are earthy and Alessandro wants the location to reflect that rather than doing a studio look. We're going for something more raw and unpolished than Gucci usually does.”

“Thank you Jared.” She turns to Alessandro who comes up next to them.

Jared once again has his hands on Jensen, bracketing his shoulders and pushing him forward into the club.

The bass is throbbing and Jensen leans back towards Jared. “How long do we have to be here?”

Jared's breath ghosts over his neck as he answers; Jensen shivers. “I figure an hour or so. If the girls aren't ready when we are, I'll call us a cab.”

“Can't be soon enough for me.” Jensen hates this kind of thing. He likes to party – quite a bit actually to hear Chris and Steve tell it – but this isn't a social event and the sooner he gets looked over, and assessed, the sooner he can leave. He's glad to hear Jared's on the same page.

Jared guides them to a booth in the back corner where Danneel and Genevieve are waiting. Jared leans in again. “I asked them to find something a bit out of the way. Figured anybody Alessandro wanted us to meet he could bring by.”

The fit is tight in the booth and Jensen is pressed up to Jared from shoulder to thigh. Jared’s arm wraps around his shoulders - Gen’s too - and he snugs Jensen close. Jensen leans into it, safe and lit up at the same time. He's glad he's not drinking. His resolve to keep Jared at arms distance is already precariously wobbly, and drunk him tends to lose his inhibitions.

Club goers and press and a few people with job offers come by the booth over the next hour, speaking congratulations and questions in equal measure. Jensen's just about had enough. His lips feel frozen in a permanent rictus of a smile and all he wants is to get off the crap makeup and slip into some sweatpants.

Jared's hand at his neck, massaging and warm, keeps him grounded. When the people parade slows to a trickle, Jared taps his wrist and gestures for Jensen to stand. He tells the girls something that Jensen can't hear over the crowd and then he puts one hand in the small of Jensen's back to lead him out, The ever-present want lurking in Jensen pools into his groin as they climb into the cab Jared called.

 

 

Back at the hotel, Jared follows Jensen into their room. He paces the suite while Jensen showers and changes; he visualizes Jensen rinsing the blue from his hair and the color swirling down the drain.

He's already booked everything for tomorrow so he hopes Jensen agrees to the road trip. The girls had other plans and didn't tell Jared until tonight. He tells himself it's fine – just two good friends going wine tasting and having a nice dinner out; nothing to see.

Jensen comes out of the shower, toweling off his hair, with another slung around his hips. Droplets of water roll down his chest.

Jared heads to the mini bar and grabs a water. It's hot in the room and his mouth is dry.

He waits until he hears Jensen pull on clothes before turning back around.

“So are you up for a day trip tomorrow – see a little of the countryside?”

“What'd you have in mind?” Jensen asks as he scrubs his hand through his hair, leaving it going this way and that.

Jared moves to his bed and sits cross-legged on it. “I booked a trip for all of us to this family owned place in the country and a wine tour. The girls decided they were going to visit Genevieve's family for the days we’re off. So I'm hoping you want to come because it'd be a lot less fun alone.”

Jensen doesn’t hesitate at all. “Yeah. I'd love to. I was hoping I'd actually get to see a bit of Italy before we had to go back.

“Great. We leave at seven.”

Jensen flips off the light by his bed. “Guess I better get some rest then. Also, if you expect me to roll you best be promising a detour to an Italian cafe. Night Jay.”

“I promise.” Jared hushes his voice in the darkness of the room. “Night, Jen.”

Jared showers. Sleep is elusive so Jared texts Sandy some pics from the show and some of the most interesting clubbers from tonight. She’ll dig the one of the girl covered in nothing but glittery rainbow stripes from head-to-toe.

He closes with the familiar, “Love you.”

Jensen’s quiet snores lull him to sleep.

 

 

Jared puts an arm out, preventing Jensen from hitting the dash when the car lurches to a stop at the spot he’d picked for lunch. It’s midway between Milan and the B-n-B. The hillside rolls down into vineyards, vines neatly marching in rows and heavy with grapes.

As they top the hill, Jared sticks the umbrella into the ground and lays out the blankets. Jensen stands there, eyes glued to his feet. Jared senses unsease and he looks around to see if something's off. Looking out at the sun-drenched scene, the quaint arrangement on the hillside and the two of them sans the girls, the tiny Jared in his head says, “This is some romantic shit, mofo.” For some reason tiny Jared sounds a lot like Chad Michael Murray.

Jared says, “Thought the girls would be with us when I planned this. . . Um, we could take the food - “

Jensen cuts him off and his arm flexes as he lifts up the picnic basic between them. “There is lunch in here, right? You didn’t fill it with wine and plan on getting me drunk did you? Because I am not that kind of girl, Padalecki.”

Jared goes with the teasing, steps up closer to Jensen, grabs the picnic basket and places it on the ground. He twines his fingers into the hem of Jensen's shirt. “Oh, if I decide to seduce you, Ackles, I ain't gonna need alcohol to loosen you up.”

Jensen places his palm in the center of Jared’s chest and bats his eyelashes. “Well, aren’t you a smooth talker, camera-man. If you’re lucky I’ll take my shirt off for you, but you best know the bra stays on.”

The laugh gets stuck behind Jared's teeth, replaced by the heat radiating from Jensen’s hand. Jared looks into Jensen's eyes and wants what Jensen’s pretending to offer behind lowered lashes. Wants it the way he wants sugar all the damn time or the way he wants his momma when he’s sick. It’s bone deep, innate and undeniable.

Before Jared can do something stupid Jensen steps back and kneels to start unpacking the basket.

Jared can’t decide if being saved was what he was hoping for.

 

 

Full of rolls, prosciutto, and mozzarella, Jensen lazes under the Italian sun. Well, half of him does. He and Jared make a vee under the shade of the umbrella, faces and arms grayed out while the sun whites out their lower halves. Jensen wonders if they’re really there for a minute, arms pillowing their heads and elbows brushing as they breath in and out.

“The jump scare. Now that’s a classic,” Jared says.

Jensen’s knocked out of his flight of fancy and wonders if he’s missed part of the conversation because it’s as if he wandered into the middle of Jared’s thought processes, with no direction signs to impart proper context.

Eloquence fails him and he stutters out, “Huh?”

Jared waves an arm in the air, the one not touching Jensen, and says, “You know. Pranks. I was remembering the pranks we used to play on set. The jump scare never gets old. Man, Alexis had this high pitched scream that my dogs could hear in my trailer. Every person on set worked to get that out of her. She got better at ignoring us and it got harder, but we got creative.”

“Yeah.” Jensen doesn’t know if this is going somewhere, but he finds himself hanging on for any tidbit Jared will share. It’s scary how much he wants to know everything about Jared. “Tell me more, prank-master.”

Jared regales him with stories: dead dummies in bathrooms, cars crammed with water-filled condoms, _man, had Chad been pissed about that one,_ water switched with vodka during a take.

Jareds turns over on his side, leaning up on his elbow, eyes glued to Jensen; Jensen basks in the look and never want this _so good_ feelling to stop.

“The best one, by far, we pulled on Alexis. I taught Harley to play dead as a puppy.” He demonstrate with his free hand pulling a trigger of an imaginary gun. He’s a pro, remind me to show you.”

Jared sits up, getting into the story and needs both hands now. “Anyway, makeup helped us out with some fake blood and I roped Melissa into this too. We’re messing around behind the scenes and I have this prop gun, right?” Jared pauses and waggles his eyebrows. “So I point it at Harley and he drops. Alexis scrunches up her face after prodding Harley with her foot and not getting a response and says,” Jared voice rises in a falsetto that’s a pretty good imitations of Alexis, “‘As if I’m falling for that Jared. I know that’s a prop. You’re not even trying anymore.’”

Another dramatic pause and Jared continues, “Right then Melissa walks into the room, notices Harley, makes this tragic face and falls over Harley, popping the blood packets from makeup. Alexis is still standing there, mouth twisted up and nose in the air, eyes on me. Melissa cries out and holds up her bloody hands. That’s when I pretend to lose it. I throw the gun and crawl over to Harley, sobbing, ‘Oh, god, it was a joke. Oh, God, Harley.’ And I’ve got blood on my hands too now. We’ve really smeared it over his coat and it looks pretty damn real.”

Jared pops a grape in his mouth, never takes his eyes off Jensen.

“Damn it, Jay, finish the story.”

Jared’s grin of exultations keeps Jensen on edge, but Jared takes his time chewing and swallowing another grape. “Well Alexis starts screaming, calls out for the director, the DP, Lauren, Milo, anyone she can think of. She’s got tears in her eyes and is swiping at them as people come running from all over the lot. We wait until almost everyone is there, passing the story around of how I’d shot Harley on accident. There’s some arguing over how I couldn't have because it was a prop. I mean we had them going, you know.”

Jared takes a breath, waits for Jensen’s nod. “So someone says call 911, but they settle on finding the set medic. Melissa and I have held it together for about as long as we can. She starts laughing and I give Harley the done command. He springs up and nuzzles my closed hand for his treat.”

Jensen shakes his head and chuckles; it dawns on him he’s mimicking Jared’s position, facing him cross-legged and leaning in so as not to miss a word.

Jared continues, “Alexis is evil. She slapped my arm, and pretended to let it roll off her shoulders,. Later she got me good.”

“Well, share with the class.”

“Uh-uh.” Jared pinches a finger and thumb together and makes a zipping motion across his lips. “I vowed never to speak of the underwear incident ever again.”

“I’ll call Chad.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I’d do it right now, but don’t want the bill for it, although waking up Murray at bum-fuck-o-clock in the States might be worth it.”

They both grin and Jared slides a pear from their dessert into his mouth. “So what about you?”

Another eloquent “Huh?” rolls off Jensen’s tongue.

Jared burps and waves his hands. “From like, set pranks or whatever.”

Jensen doesn’t know what Jared sees on his face, but his brow wrinkles with concern and he squeezes Jensen’s knee, leaves his hand there, which is not as comforting as Jared probably wants it to be. “I was so green on Days that everyone on set seemed like a mentor, you know. Not people I could really play around with.” Jared nods and waits for Jensen to continue. “It’s not like we didn’t connect, and there were times when I was sure I was going to be mother-henned to death, but it was more of a familial feel than anything else.” Jensen pauses, a sick twist in his stomach. “I’m sure you heard the Dark Angel rumors.”

“Yeah, but I never knew how much of it was true.”

“It was a tense set. I kept my head down and did the work, but there wasn’t anybody I’d have wanted to be BFFs with.” Jensen’s smile doesn’t reach both sides of his mouth. He takes a breath and continues. ”Dawson’s was a good set and we were all closer to the same age. You know Chad, he can bring levity to anything, but there was nothing epic. I think the most creative we got was drawing a dick on Chad’s face when he fell asleep, because you know, Chad. Boy did makeup chew us out. “

Jared’s lips are pursed as he nods, “Yeah, Chad practically draws a target on himself. He can be a great guy, but you have to dig pretty deep.”

Jared slaps his knee and says, “We better get a move on if we want to make our dinner reservation.”

“Do you ever get full?”

Jared laughs, “I’ll let you know.”

One of these days Jensen’s going to drown in that smile.

 

 

__

Jensen swirls the Italian table red in his glass and attempts to remember if this is glass three or four. He’s buzzed, teeth aching and spirits high, and close to inebriated but another bottle away from smashed. He makes a mental note to add some wine to his coffee shipment. He’s going to miss Italy.

He might especially miss certain parts of Italy, like the doe-eyed boy - man - whatever - younger than Jensen, maybe Jared’s age. His wavy hair curls on his brow and his eyes find Jensen's more than they do his dance partners. The wink the cucciolo - in Italian a term used for boy children that literally means puppy - throws him cements the flirtation into an offer.

Jensen’s eyes shift to Jared tossing a girl around on the makeshift, outdoor, dance floor - a patch of beaten down dirt, covered in straw. They both have color in their cheeks, twin grins full of dimples, and a joy radiating off them that makes Jensen want to put his fist through the nearest wall.

A hand grazes his side and he pulls his eyes from what he can’t have and settles them on what he can. When the beautiful boy holds out a hand, Jensen takes it, not surprised to find that they end behind his door, hands removing clothes and lips locked in mutual need.

 

 

__

Jared rushes up the stone steps into his room. It’s adjacent to Jensen’s. He can’t wait to share some of the shots he got of the dancers in traditional Italian wear. The small courtyard was lit with strings of yellow, bare-bulbed lights, creating an atmosphere that comes across intimate and poetic on film. Jared strides across his room and opens the adjacent door.

Jared doesn’t think, doesn’t shut the door, doesn’t have time to wish for sudden death, because every single red blood cell in his body rushed south with the porographic images assasulting his eyes.

Unlike his entrance, his exit is stealthy. The door is eased close and the knob turned with precision. The whole Incident - and yes it has now taken on capital letter proportions in Jared’s mind - couldn’t have taken thirty seconds flat.

That doesn’t stop his dick from being hard or his mind replaying those seconds on slow-mo.

He’s a red-blooded young man, away from his girl - of course he popped wood over the live sex show. He isn’t. . . can’t . . . fuck it. Jared doesn’t even shove back the covers just flops on his bed, pants at his ankles and takes his cock in his hand.

The images of Jensen’s muscled back fluid and in motion play against the ceiling. Jared covers his eyes with his other arm and strokes his aching dick, root to tip, pre-come slicking the downward stroke and he knows he’s close, balls tight and full. Covering his eyes allows the obscene animations to force themselves under his lids: Jensen fucking like a machine, biceps bulging, and fingers digging into slender hips, the twink bent over, palms flat against the sheets, and mewling like nothing so good is ever going to happen to him again.

A little pressure under the crown on the up-swipe, and he comes all over his hand. He doesn’t bother undressing; he wipes his hands on the bedding, pulls he covers over himself and let’s the post-coital haze carry him to sleep. The flex of Jensen’s ass and the pretty little dimples above it that begged for kisses, haunt him and slink into his dreams.

 

 

__

Jared doesn’t meet his own eyes in the mirror. He runs fingers through his hair and hopes for the best. He considers texting Jensen and heading out to do some photo work in the countryside, but he’s not a chicken shit, and no matter how awkward, he owes Jensen an apology.

Jared stalls, taking the stone steps slowly, looking over the tapestries and sconces like they were featured in architectural digest. He hits the bottom step, surveys the dining room and spots Jensen in the serving line.

He sidles up, glad that the doesn’t actually have to make eye contact. “I’m sorry.” Jesus, it occurs to Jared then that maybe Jensen didn’t even notice, He was kind of busy after all.

Jensen turns with his plate, but throws over his shoulder, “You coming?”

Jensen sits and starts shoveling food into his mouth. For once, Jared’s got no desire to eat. He stares sadly at his Cannolis.

He talks into his plate. “I was really excited to show you some photos and didn’t think.” Jared almost goes on, but realizes what those words mean. He meets Jensen's eyes, but can’t tell if the knowledge of how far Jared has let Jensen into his life, how much Jared cares, is mutual.

Nothing shows on Jensen’s face; it’s a blank stare. Jared’s leg jitters under the table and fear crawls up his throat. Has he ruined the best thing to happen to him in, well, forever?

Jensen’s lips curl in and his chest raises up, then down.

Then Jared gets it. He heaves out a breath and laughter erupts out of Jensen, loud and raucous.

“Oh, man, I had you going, didn’t I?”

“Your an evil bastard, Ackles.”

Jensen smirks and knocks his foot against Jared’s under the table.

“I am sorry,” Jared says.

“Knock next time, asshole.”

“I will.” Jared digs into his now very appealing food, but to be sure that they’re on the same page, he looks up before he shoves Cannoli in his mouth, “We’re good?

“Yeah, Jay, we’re good.”

 

 

__

Wind whips Jensen’s kilt around his legs, exposing his thigh, and Jared adjusts the camera setting to get more frames per second. The wind was unexpected, but they’re working around it.

The scene is exactly as Jared pictured it, but with a sky murky with clouds and the sea in the background churning up white foam instead of the bright sun he’d first hoped for. The inclement weather is better - emphasizes the ‘solitary man’ vibe Jared’s going for. Jensen is front and center, hands loose and curled at his sides, a challenge in his eyes. Even knowing it’s staged Jared thinks he might look into a kilt for himself, and wonders if Sandy would like it.

Between changes they bundle Jensen up in heated blankets because the temperatures aren’t suited to shirtless, but Vogue was pretty clear that part of what they were selling was sex. Jensen was cool with it, so Jared was too.

Genevieve is the busiest because the weather’s playing havoc with Jen’s hair, blowing it this way and that. They’d decided on a just rolled out of bed look, but it only takes so long before the product Genevieve’s using loses it grip and then hair is in eyes or curving wildly over an ear. Every few frames Jared sends her in for a touch up.

Danneel did the makeup perfectly - as in you can’t tell Jensen has any on. The scruff Jensen has after two days without shaving adds to the mountain-man look and pulls it together.

Jared plays through the next poses he wants even as he clicks away.

The worn-away stone arch will make perfect frame with Jensen wedged horizontal, flexed muscles holding him up off the ground, the long tartan coat hanging to the ground. That will make his abs look great, too. For the sheer top and skinny pants he wants Jensen walking in from the field with an ax, shedding the shirt as he goes. He’ll have Danneel add sweat and grime to make it grittier. He’s got a pose in mind for the things that’s more skirt then kilt which will pair with the leather belt and fingerless gloves - Jensen leaning on the side of a barn, back exposed and looking over his shoulder into the distance, skirt pulled down on one side, his dimple above his ass framed between the belt and lowered skirt. For the final look - the pants/skirt combo thingy - he wants Jensen sitting on the porch of this dilapidated cabin he found, legs spread askew, tin coffee cup in hand - a man ending/beginning his day of hard labor.

 

 

__

Alessandro's designs should never look ordinary, because they aren’t, but Jensen’s spent so much time in them they’re starting to seem as everyday as jeans. However, there’s been some changes-ups as he’s doing shots for billboard, catalog and advertising, so there’s more t-shirts, hoodies and a ton more accessories. Apparently most couture houses make their real money on accessories and perfume.

Because they’re back to the mohawk and eyeliner look, the studio call for him, Danneel and Genevieve is for six a.m. Jared, the lucky fucker, doesn’t have to be in until eight.

When Jared walks into the studio, He and Jensen both start speaking at the same time, Jensen’s hand reaching for the tray of coffee in Jared's, knowing two are for him without asking. He passes the other two to the girls.

They both close their mouths and Jensen, already drinking, gestures for Jared to go ahead.

“Okay, so, we got the cover of Vogue. The editor called me for permission this morning as we weren’t contracted for the cover.”

Jensen does not spit out his coffee, because sacred, but it’s a close thing. “Oh, god, don’t tell me they chose the one with the skirt showing half my ass.”

“Jen, think for a minute. This puts you in the same league as Justin Timberlake or George Clooney. Not many men get the cover.”

“Oh god. They did pick that one didn’t they?”

Jared tilts his head, eye drooping and mouth turned down in apology. Jensen fears the affirmation. Jared says, “Nah, man, I’m fucking with you. They used the oceanscape one.”

Something uncoils in Jensen, a tightness he hadn’t noticed. That one is shirtless, but he doesn’t look like a come-hither twink. “Your lucky my hands are around my coffee or they’d be around your throat.”

“Aw, love you too, Jen.” Jared winks and blows him a kiss. Jensen’s stomach does not flutter.

Ten hours and he doesn’t know how many outfit changes later, Jensen is done. Two other Vogue staff members hand joined Danni to get him and out of clothes as fast as possible. After thirty Jensen couldn’t count how many more looks they did.

Genevieve and Danneel head out for dinner, but Jared, who lost his smile about an hour ago, voted for room service along with Jensen.

By the time they finish, Jensen can’t do more than slump onto Jared, using his shoulder for a pillow as they head back to the hotel.

 

 

NOTE: I messed up and this is the right header for this Chapter - I gave my artist the wrong info. :(

/p>

 _"I find beauty in the grotesque, like most artists."_  
  ~Alexander McQueen

Jared dumps his bags on the floor amidst the pat-pat-padding of doggy feet running across wood. It’s been four weeks and he’s missed their love. He crouches down and greets Harley and Sadie. He’s jet lagged, sweaty and now he smells like dog breath, but he’s _home_. Comfort rolls through him, a solid reminder that this is where he belongs now. Jensen, Danneel and Genevieve had all left a week earlier, but Jared had to stay another week to edit and apply finishing touches on site.

Jared’s sitting cross-legged on the floor rubbing Sadie's belly when Jensen plods in. His hair is every which way, but still manages that bedhead sexy look stylists strive for.

“You’re early.” Jensen moves straight to the espresso machine and begins pulling shots.

Jared does not stare at the patch of freckled skin that shows between Jensen’s low-slung house pants and tee every time he lifts his cup up. Once Jensen has added sugar he turns and leans against the counter. Jared asks, “What no hug? You’ve thrown me over for that tin can coffee maker?”

Jensen inhales a deep breath and heaves a satisfied sigh, “Espresso, not coffee, you ignorant ingrate. Besides, what me and Baby have is real,” he says as he pats the Espresso machine. “Seriously I was going to pick you up at the airport around four. What happened?”

“Homesick. Re-booked for an earlier flight when I got done sooner than expected.”

“Dogs missed you,” Jensen says.

“Aw, You missed me too, Jen. Don’t deny it.”

Jensen nods, sips at this coffee and drawls, “Well I did until I found the operating manual for your Espresso machine. “

Jared pounds his chest with a fist. “That hurts, Ackles. I think you moved in for my awesome taste in appliances.”

Jensen nods, tipping back his drink for one last sip. “Well, the job helped, but the Espresso machine sealed the deal. While you were gone I took the dishwasher out for a spin and we’re besties now, but we made the refrigerator jealous.”

Jared cracks a smile but can’t quite muster a laugh. He pushes Harley off his legs and digs around in a side pocket for the plain white envelope he tucked into it. “Here.” He waves it in Jensen’s direction.

Jensen steps closer and sits cross-legged by Jared’s legs as he reaches for the envelope. Jensen opens it and lets out a low whistle. “What’s this for?”

Jared shrugs and scratches at Sadie’s ears. “Paid time off. We’ve all been busting our butts. Gen and Danni both are getting one too. We are taking a one week hiatus.”

“We are?”

“Well, I mean from here, yeah. Obviously you can do other work if you want, but I need a break and the girls were thrilled.” Jared shifts and pushes his body off the floor. He puts a hand out to help Jensen up.

They stand there for a few seconds until Jensen breaks the silence. “You look beat.”

“You’re a beat.”

“That didn’t even make sense, Jay. Go get some sleep.”

Jared turns to his room and the dogs follow behind. He can feel Jensen’s eyes on him as he leaves.

 

Jensen lets the dogs out, eats breakfast, downs two lattes, and eyeballs the scripts piled up in the corner of his room. He grabs one, takes out to the dining area and tosses it on the table. Instead of sitting down to read, he gets eggs from the fridge.

He’s making some omelettes and has a pitcher of juice waiting on the counter when Jared shuffles from around the partition to his bedroom, pajama pants low on his hips, rubbing at his eyes and hair curling everywhere.

“Looks like my princess finally decided to get out of bed,” Jensen says.

“Fuck you, I just flew 17 hours. You can’t fool me, Ackles. I know there’s no way you were out of bed before noon all last week. “

A chuckle rests in Jensen’s chest and curls the edges of his mouth. “Not true, sunshine, I had a ten a.m. meeting with my manager on Tuesday.”

“Pffffttt. Doesn’t count. You had to be up.” Jared pours a glass of juice and rubs at his face before gulping half of it down. “Coffee.” The word is groaned out and Jensen flips the switch on the Gaggia and it starts hissing steam and espresso. “You are the best roommate ever, Jen.” Jared flops his head down on the table and doesn’t lift it again until Jensen kicks his foot and serves the eggs and coffee. Jared downs the coffee and stuffs half the omelette in his face before he attempts conversation

Jared reaches for the script, reads the title and asks, “What’s this.” It sounds more like “Whach thish” but Jensen understands.

“Script.” Jensen says without embellishment. Jared huffs and stares him down, waiting. “My agent has a whole stack of them. Seems those Bloomingdales Billboards with my face plastered all over them got some attention. She says I can pretty much have my pick of these.

“Jen, that’s great - ”

“It’s not lead stuff, but yeah. It’s good.”

“So why don't’ you appear thrilled?”

Jensen pushes up from the table and grabs dishes to put in the dishwasher. Jared flips through pages behind him. Jensen turns after hitting the start button and leans back against the counter.. He’s not sure why he’s being like this. “Things are good - no great, but, “I can’t let myself believe it’s real.” The words jump out as if they were waiting for the chance, but they’re true, nevertheless. .

Jared tips his head, thought processes scrunching his eyebrows. “I get it. That’s how I felt after my sales started getting regular and paying the bills. I kept waiting for it to all crash around me.”

“I’ve got thirty or so scripts to go through, so figured I’d use the week off to go through them.”

“You want some help.”

_Yes!_ Jensen’s inner self does a little high five but he says, “Don’t you have better things to do?” It’d be like Jared to help if he thought Jensen needed him.

“Dude, my plans consist of getting friendly with the couch and doing some messing around with the camera. I’m pretty sure I can squeeze you in.”

“Yeah, if you’re sure, that'd be awesome.”

“I’m rusty but I can still tell a shit script when I see one.” Jared moves to the couch. “See I’m multitasking. I can couch potato and read at the same time. Jared pats the space next to him. “Cuddle up sugar doll we got some lines to run.’

“God, Jay I don’t know how you got a girl like Sandy.”

“It’s my godlike looks.”

Jensen snorts. “Yeah, whatever. I'm thankful you didn’t go into writing.”

“I know right, I’d have swept the awards from under everyone else with my erudite pennings.” Jensen shakes his head and doesn’t bother answering. Jensen sits close to Jared, thighs touching, shoulders bumping.

Jared folds back the pages. “This one is pretty good so far. You’re highlighted to play Kelvin, the no good brother-in-law right?” Jared flips his hair back and purses his lips. “Kelvin, you’ve never done a damn thing for this family that wasn’t in your own best interests.”

Jared’s falsetto challenges Jensen not to laugh and stay on script. He sinks right into the part.

Yeah, this is going to be a lot better than doing it by himself.

 

Jensen settles into the couch, kicks off an empty take-out box and wrinkles his nose at the scent of multiple take-out foods mingling together in the air. He’s bringing coffee to his mouth and stating to read _The House Beyond Time_ when Jared swoops in and snatches it from his hand.

“We’re pigs,” Jared says.

Jensen can’t argue with that. The table and floor are littered with empty solo cups, food containers and some clothing that Jensen definitely doesn’t want to touch with his hands. It looks like frat boys have nested in Jared’s living room for a week.

Jensen sips his coffee and wait for Jared to tie his words together with his thieving of the script. “I called Tim.” Tim is an intern that does odd jobs for Jared while learning pro photo tips. “He’s going to come over and clean and we’re going out. We are going to do manly things - eat BBQ, shoot pool, talk about sports and scratch our balls in public. I am not reading one more script as the female foil to your handsome self until I reassert my manhood or I might get stuck that way.”

“You think I’m handsome.”

“See! I am turning into a girl.” Jared pivots and heads back to his room. “No button downs or scarves, Jensen. We’re being real men.”

Jensen changes and they take Jared’s truck to a dimly lit little bar that says Mel’s in green chipped paint over concrete. A Budweiser sign flashes in one dirty window. The place is long and narrow, bar to the left and booths to the right. Jared and he are the only patrons at - Jensen checks his watch - ten a.m.

They take two barstools and Jared starts shucking peanuts and tossing the shells on the ground. “You’re gonna love the breakfast here, man. Della cooks a mean chorizo scramble.” A woman almost as tall as Jensen is walks in to view. She’s got legs to her chin and a waist any actress would envy.

“Paddywhack. Where you been keeping yourself?”

“Knew you missed me Dell.”

“Nope. Don’t miss your smart mouth or the trouble you usually bring with you. Speaking of trouble who’s your friend?”

“This is Jensen. He’s an actor.”

Della sling her towel over shoulder. “Isn’t everyone in this town. What're you boys having?”

“Two chorizo scrambles and the sweet potato fries. Bloody Mary for us both” Della winks and goes back to where Jensen can see a small kitchen.

“You know, Jared, just because you need to feel manly doesn’t mean you have to treat me like a girl. I know how to order my own food.”

“Uh - “ Jared gapes at him, mouth open.

Jensen’s sure he’s never seen Jared speechless and the laughter bubbles out.

“Fuck you, Jen.”

“Bloody Marys. . . really?”

Jared shrugs. “My momma used to make them for my dad at Sunday breakfast. One for him and one for her. She hated champagne and said a Bloody Mary was the only civilized drink to have before noon. Besides I know you aren’t all that picky about what you drink.”

It’s true. Jensen likes to drink - they both do. They’d raided the mini-bar more than one night on the road, and the liquor had flowed free at after parties and backstage all through the runway season. Jensen would pretty much drink whatever was handed to him as long as he knew someone had his back.

“I was roofied once.” Jensen doesn’t know why he blurts it out.

Jared’s quiet, waiting. Della drops their drinks and heads back to the kitchen.

“It was an industry party. You know the ones. Everyone pretends to like everyone else while you all are kissing up to whoever you think might have a project in the works. Hookers and blow and alcohol everywhere. I knew better.” Jareds clasps his wrist squeezes it softly. “Some waiter walked by and I grabbed a glass. I was so green and so damn nervous. I didn’t even think. It took a while to hit. I don’t know if you’ve ever been on E?”

He looks at Jared then and Jared shakes his head. “Well it’s not like it makes you horny, but everything gets intense.You can feel your clothes brushing your skin. I felt the wall against my back and rubbed up on it. I wanted to _feel_ everything. Two guys descended on me. I’m not small and I could have taken them, but I didn’t even think about it. One of them started kissing my neck the other had his hand on my dick and it felt so damn good. They could've done anything and I wouldn’t have made a single peep of protest. That’s actually how I met Chris. He came over pulled one guy off me and glared so hard at the other that he backed off for easier prey. Chris got me home and we’ve been friends ever since.”

Jensen gulps at his bloody mary and drains half of it. “So I never drink alone in public, make sure someone has my back and I have theirs.

“People suck.” Jared says. His hand is still around Jensen’s wrist and it feels like safety.

“Amen.” They clink their glasses and Della arrives with the food.

As soon as Jensen shoves the last bite into his mouth Jared’s got his hand at his elbow and drags him through a door in the shadowy back area. In the next room there are two pool tables. They pick out cues and rock-paper-scissors for the break.

“You know we could make this interesting.” Jared says. Jensen's pretty sure getting to watch Jared bend over all afternoon will be as interesting as it’s going to get. “How about a wager?”

“Bring it, Paddywhack”

“If I win you have to wash my truck and do all the laundry for a month.”

Jensen’s good at pool, and he hates backing down from a challenge. “And if I win?”

Jared chalks his cue and shoots Jensen a look from under his bangs. “You tell me.”

Blow jobs every morning for a week probably isn’t even on the table, but damn Jared’s flirting hard and heavy. Of course, Jared flirts like he’s breathing. Jensen chastises his brain to think of something that doesn’t involve sexual favors. “You have to take me to that french film playing at the Indie place and treat me to steak at Cut.” Jared groans. He has gone on extensively about why subtitled works are an affront to the genre of film, not to mention Cut is about as expensive as it gets in LA. “And - “

“And!“ Jared’s faking outrage, but Jensen knows it’s not quite even yet.

“You’ve got to bake me your mom’s snickerdoodle cookies.”

Jared squints, pretends to think and says, “No recipe. My momma’d beat me and kill you.” Jensen sticks out a hand and says, “Done”

They shake on it.

Jensen chalks his cue and lines up his first shot. He sinks the six and the four, and the three is lined up perfectly. He walks around the table, Jared on his heels and leans into the next shot.

“So,” Jared says, “do you think the Cowboys have a shot this season?” Jensen looks over his shoulder and raises his eyebrow at Jared’s shit-eating grin.

“Is this how we’re going to do this, Jay?”

Jared’s grin goes impossibly wider, dimples turning into dark divots and he widens his eyes. “What? Just wondering what you think of Romo?”

Jensen turns back to the table and Jared starts a monologue about Dallas’s starting lineup. Jensen misses the shot.

Jared has solids and he moves over to bank the nine off the twelve. As Jared slides the cue forward, Jensen hits the play button and Metallica screeches out of his phone.

Jared sinks the ball. He turns to Jensen and mouths, “Turn it down”

“What? Jensen shouts. “I can’t hear you.”

Jared flips him off and proceeds to miss the next shot. Jensen circles him and gets his next shot ready. He knows Jared’s got something planned. He blanks his mind, entire focus on his shot. Jared’s behind him and Jensen can feel his intent. As he pulls in a breath and pulls back, Jared leans in, hot breath scorching the curve of Jensen’s ear. “You know,” Jared says, and it's all rounded southern vowels and a purr, “your ass looks damn fuckable when you bend over like that.”

Jared’s a dirty low down cheating bastard and Jensen's half hard in his jeans, but he sinks his shot. “I knew you had a thing for my ass, Jay.”

When it’s Jared’s turn Jensen doesn’t hesitate to bring his face down to Jared’s level across the table. He licks across his bottom lip and bites on it a little for good effect. When Jared scratches the shot, Jensen lifts his eyebrows and saunters over for his own shot. He sinks one ball before Jared can round the table, but the wily bastard stands out of arm's reach and Jensen feels safe. He takes the shot and nearly jumps on the table when he feels Jared’s hand on his inner thigh. Jared whistles with pleasure as he lines up his final ball.

Jensen starts coughing and he feels a little bad when Jared looks concerned.

Jared sinks the last stripe and Jensen hold his hands over his head, gestures at his throat and cough some more. When Jared misses the 8 ball, Jensen doubles over in laughter.

It’s Jensen’s turn and he lines up the last shot. Jared hip bumps him as he pulls back and pushes the cue forward, but the ball slips right into the corner pocket making Jensen the winner.

“You should be glad I’m not a sore loser, Ackles.”

Jared leaves a tip and they head out into a bright spring day.

 

They’re walking to the car when Jared spots the three women heading there way. “Dean! Dean!” one of them shouts. “OMG that’s Jared Padalecki,” the other one hollers.

Jared doesn’t think, doesn’t even know why he does it. He’s usually happy to sign an autograph or take a photo with a fan, but he grabs Jensen's hand and expels the word, “Run.”

They head down the block. Jared hears the cries of, “wait, wait” behind him and he picks up speed. Jensen’s right next to him. They hit a corner and the girls are a few yards behind them waving. Jensen points down the street. They head that way and veer into a small alleyway and duck behind a dumpster. Jensen’s hand is still in his and they’re both breathing heavy. They wait peeking out as the women race by then walk back the way they came in defeat.

“Why’d we just run away like a couple of punk ass babies. We could have totally taken those three,” Jensen says.

“Shut up.”

For no reason, Jared starts laughing, collapses to the ground and can’t stop. Jensen’s right there with him, both of them grabbing their sides. Tears threaten to roll down his cheek. Jensen gasps next to him and Jared feels the vibration of his laughter to his toes. Their laughter dies and they sit against the dumpster until their breathing is back to normal.

 

Jensen hits the button on his phone so hard he’s afraid he’ll break it, but he doesn’t fucking care.

{Get in here, Jay. NOW!!!!!!!!!}

He doesn’t throw the phone. The memory of how much it cost holds him back, Besides he’d already scared the wardrobe manager, Eric, half to death. When Jensen had scowled after being shown the “clothes” for the shoot, the man had scurried out as if Jensen was about to go full on homicidal. Jensen’s not sure he wasn’t right.

He looks at the offensive appendages again and, yeah, no way is he doing this. He’s a professional and he does not need to get a reputation as some kind of diva. Hollywood has its rules, and rumors can ruin a career quickly.

He’s worn some damn strange shit since he’d started working with Jared, but this. . . _God,_ what if his mother saw. She was always picking up or printing out everything Jensen appears in. He pounds the padded back of the makeup chair with fists clenched, then scrubs his hand across his face. _Where the fuck is Jared?_

As if summoned by Jensen's anger, Jared walks into the dressing room.

One look at Jared’s face, at laughter caged behind curved lips, and Jensen knows that Jared knew exactly what this job involved.

Some of his anger leaks away. Jared’s never screwed him over or asked him to do something that made him uncomfortable. “This is a prank, right?”

A guilty shadow crosses Jared's face stealing away his smile and drawing his eyes to the floor. Jensen’s anger deflates as fast as it churned up and he collapses into the makeup chair, staring at the sparkly pink and baby blue gloves and footwear he’s supposed to don.

Jared steps closer, knocks their knees together until Jensen looks up. “It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise. Have I ever led you astray?”

“A unicorn horn, Jay. That man had a unicorn horn.” Jensen hears the whine in his voice and doesn’t even care. “Did you see this?” He shakes the offending gloves and boots. “There are hooves on here, hooves. He lifts them higher in case Jared doesn’t get it. “I might be gay but I don’t want to dress up as prancing, sparkly unicorn.”

Jared’s eyes crinkles and Jensen sees him swallow the laugh. He tries to call up some anger, but he can’t. His heart’s expanding with pain and isn’t leaving room for much else. He rests his head in his hands, doesn’t even know how to manage this.

He hears scraping and sees Jared's feet and the legs of the stool come into his line of sight. Warm heavy hands settle on his shoulders and Jensen shivers. “Look at me, Jen.”

Jensen takes a deep breath and looks at Jared. “I can see how this,” he waves his hands to indicate the items Jensen is currently thinking of destroying, “looks bad, but I promise it’s going to be awesome, even creepy. I forgot to show you the concept sketches the editorial director sent over.” Jensen lifts an eyebrow, skepticism sitting tight on his mouth.” Let them get you into makeup and I think you’ll change your mind.” Jared’s thumbs massage the tenseness from his shoulder. That touch shouldn’t cause Jensen to cave, but the waves of pleasure flowing through him are certainly persuasive. “If you still hate it, once you are in makeup and see the set, I’ll get you out of it.”

“You’d do that?”

Jared’s lips part and a breath escapes. “Yeah. Of course. I told you in the beginning. I never want you to do anything you don’t want to do. I chose the models for this shoot and you were approved, but I can probably sell them on someone else.”

Doubt rolls off Jensen. “Fine, but you owe me, Jay.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure your fee will cover your butthurt.”

Jared’s not wrong about that, and Jared’s face lit with happiness is pretty good payment, but Jensen wants him to feel some of the discomfort that Jensen’s been going through. “Well, I’m not sure that counts as you making it up to me. A little heads-up would have been nice.” Jensen pouts - a tiny bit - Jared knows him too well and would spot over-dramatization in a second.

Jared hangs head, and his shoulders curl in. If Jensen hadn’t been freaking out five minutes ago, he'd feel bad, but he’s got no pity right now. “I want massages.”

The hands on Jensen’s shoulders drop as if Jensen spontaneously combusted. “Huh?”

“Foot, hand, back, shoulders, anytime I want for the next month.” Okay, it’s probably not a wise request, but Jensen’s a slut for a good massage- he lives for Genevieve’s fingers grazing his scalp - and he could afford a pro but he wants Jared to squirm. Jensen crosses his arms over his chest and sets his mouth in a mutinous line.

Jensen can see Jared cave when his shoulders slump. It’s followed by a grudging, “Fine.” Jared gets up and heads for the door. “You’re a real pain in my ass, Ackles.”

“You know you love me, Jay.” Jensen hollers as Jared walks through the threshold.

Jensen doesn’t know if he really hears the words or he simply wishes to, but he could swear Jared says, “Yeah, I do,” as the door swings shut.

Two hours later Jensen walks onto set - well, clops. His feet hurt already, with the arches being forced almost to a ballet point in the ridiculous shoes. However, he has to admit the look isn’t anything like he imagined. It’s not the least cutesy or campy.

The make-up artist is amazing - not that he’s going to tell Danni. There are shades of midnight blue and white with a hint of hot pink. All the hollows of his body are filled with the blue - giving the impression emaciation. Everywhere else is white and just a hint in the midtones of pink. His eyes are covered in white solid contacts. For the first time he can remember, he doesn’t wish for his lips to be thinner, smaller, maybe disappear - they’re matte white and more likely to inspire nightmares than lust.

The horn that so freaked him out, emerges from his forehead in a rupture of deep black and dark blues, highlighted with stones, crystals and glitter. The hooves got the same treatment, making them menacing rather than fru-fru. The outfit includes an iridescent jacket in blues and purples that hangs to his ankles with a single button at the neck in a shattered black glass. The pants are skinny style that appear to blend into his footwear as if he was born hooved. They’re made from a slick white vinyl and adorned with endless buckles, zippers, studs, and crystals. All-in-all the affect is nightmarish. He’ll never tell Jared this, but he’s kind of excited to rock this look, thinks he can bring a stone-faced cold, blooded cast to the shoot.

Checking out the set, Jensen sees a derelict apartment setting. A rusted bathtub and peeling walls, but all the pieces have been given a pastel treatment. It’s a little like Hello Kitty and Marilyn Manson set up house and then an apocalypse happened. Hostility juxtaposed with fragility sends fingers tripping down his spine.

The other male models - two besides him - are all dressed in variations of his own unicorn-like theme. The three women are pastel versions of demons - horns curling from their heads. Yeah - he can definitely do this, but he’s going to make Jared sweat it a bit first.

Jared rushes over, anxiety creasing his forehead. “So?”

The lack of words clues Jensen in to exactly how on edge Jared is. He’s guessing replacing a model at this point wouldn’t be as easy as Jared had let him believe. Warmth pools, reassuring, _safe_ , in his chest and expands to reach every part of him. Not since his early days when he was too naive to see the sharks everywhere in this business has Jensen had such a sense of being protected.

That doesn’t mean he’s letting Jay off hook. He crosses his arms and says, “It’s still pretty gay.”

The tilt of Jared’s head means he’s finally picked up on Jensen’s teasing. Jared leans in a little closer so only Jensen can hear, “You’re pretty gay.” There’s a soft emphasis on the word pretty, and Jensen’s pulse jumps.

He pulls back looks Jared dead in the eyes, “Damn straight.”

Jared laughter reverberates around the studio.

 

“If you fall asleep, can I take your picture?” Jared asks. Jensen’s stretched out on one of the couches, feet propped upon one of the arms. His eyelids have been dropping for the last ten minutes.

Jensen’s face goes through a series of expression: confused, puzzled, understanding, acceptance, as the movie _Master and Commander_ plays on in the background “Sure. If you want.”

Jared nods. “Uh-hmm. Want to capture the beast in his natural environment, lazy and drooling.”

Jensen must be tired. He flips the bird and curls on his side not even pretending to still watch the film.

Jared gets out his cameras and starts clicking.

 

The man looking back at Jensen in the mirror is him, but not. A disparate self where beauty doesn’t matter, where a soul is reflected instead - an inner truth. He knew Gen was using a bald cap, but this is more than he imagined when she started out on him. His upper chest and face are completely white, as are his arms and hands. Where his lips would be is a circle of black and radiating out from it is small black fissures resembling branches or lightning. It almost looks like something is growing from and taking over his face. It’s creepy, compelling, alluring.

“Come on, Jensen! Jared wanted us in shoot fifteen minutes ago.”

“Yeah, well he can wait until I can feel my legs again.” He’d been in the makeup chair for three hours. Jared booked him two weeks for this shoot because it was going to be lot of time in chair and lots of heavy makeup.

Jensen‘s agent hadn’t loved it. In the last several months Jensen’s been too busy to even know how much money he’s making exactly: catalog and advertorial work, a few walk-on parts including a bit part in _Queer As Folk_ , but as yet, nothing major. Margie has hinted that Jensen should drop Jared’s work because it won’t get him the exposure he wants. He doesn’t agree.

Gen shackles his wrist with her fingers and tugs him towards the studio. “Get a move on, Diva.”

“Take that back, you bossy, little woman.”

“If the shoe fits.”

“Does not.”

Gen giggles and keeps dragging him down the hall and into the last room at the back.

Jensen hasn’t been in this part of the loft at all. It’s Jared’s regular working studio.

It’s huge - that’s the first thing Jensen notices. Probably as big as the entire upstairs space. There is still the brick walls and a wood floor, but the space is crammed with backdrops on one wall, a green screen on the left and a small wall of makeup vanities to the right. Doors big enough to move a pick-up truck through are three-wide on the fourth wall. There are lights and booms everywhere as well as a light board. It’s a top-notch set up and Jared could photograph almost anything in here.

To Gen he says, “How’d I not notice this before?”

“Oh, it’s was actually a separate building. Jared bought it and gutted most of the space except for the third floor. Jay’s got a dark room up there and rents out some of the space to a interior designer and a jewelry studio. I think an accountant has the third space but that one changes up pretty often. It was a palm reader a couple of months ago”

To Jared she says, “Here’s your boy.”

Jared turns from setting up his camera on a tripod. He circles around Jensen and lets out an appreciative whistle. “Perfect, Genevieve. Remind me to give you a raise.”

She preens. “You already did.”

Scalp tingling - not in the ‘I just had a massage’ good way - and hands twitching to keep from touching the bald cap, Jensen asks. “So what are you going for here?”

Jared touches fingers to his lower back and guides him over to a table loaded with props. “Tell me what you think.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, but examines the objects.

Jensen's fingers caress the ridges on a set of curled horns - Gen sculpted them from some photo references Jared had found online. He’d seen the horns before but the antiqued silver mask, with ancient designs in dimensional relief is unfamiliar. The mask will cover his head, hair and half his face. There are no eye holes. “Gen’s super talented isn’t she?”

“Yeah she is,” Jared replies. He’s not looking at the props.

Jensen moves onto the next - well whatever. He lifts a mass of chains and a large safety pin falls out. Jensen quirks an eyebrow towards Jared.

“It’s going to cover your head and drape over your chest. The safety pin will appear as if it pierces your lip. Gen’s going to give you some fake piercings on your nose, eyebrow, and ears. There’s more chains for the ears and some other draped chains with pearls and charms on them. They’ll all interconnect like an intricate set of armor.”

The table also holds a crown of interlaced fleur-de-lis with thorn-like spikes protruding from the sides.

“Oh that one's awesome,” says Jared. “You’ll have spikes coming out of your neck and cheek.”

There’s two more props on the table - a pile of fake butterflies - wings tattered and skeleton-like in shades of black, white and gray, and an eye patch sculpted from pieces of razor blades.

“Come look at these concept sketches Genevieve and Danneel did from some reference and a few sessions we had together. I would have showed them to you sooner - in fact I wanted to get some input from you - but you’ve face-planted every night you’ve walked through the door. I don’t even know when your last day off was.”

Concern floats in Jared’s eyes, not the reproach Jensen was expecting.

“Yeah, Margie’s had me going at it non-stop. You know how it is in this town. Strike while your name is on everyone’s tongue because you don’t know when it will end.”

“Yeah.” Jared rattles the sketches, effectively changing the subject and points to a drawing as he says, “So Gen made you a couple different sets of wicked handpieces and finger-coverings.”

Jensen examines the sketches. The finger pieces have long nails, one of them like curved talons. The next sketches have faces partially disappearing in a black-out of makeup, scales over cheeks, skin peeling away, contacts that strip any humanity from the eye.

Jensen chooses his words carefully as he explains his impressions to Jared. “I’m getting that you’re twisting beauty, possibly exploring the darkness that all people have, their selfishness and how they can be careless and hurtful, but juxtaposing it with how people are also light, beauty, compassion and kindness. Speaking to that composite of traits and how it makes humanity beautiful and unique.”

“Yeah! Yeah, exactly - that’s definitely a part of it. From my perspective I’m exposing what everyone is, the ugliness that lies below any outward appearances, but also the beauty that that holds. I’m trying to incorporate that as humans we walk through tragedy and carry those scars, those dark markers on us, but that it only enhances our beauty rather than stealing it away. I want to tell a story of people who are other, in a place we don’t normally see, and about how judging on what is visible can never be accurate because there is so much more going on underneath.”

Jared looks down with a lopsided grin curving his lips and shrugs. “Of course, I can have any vision I want, but what the viewer sees isn't up to me. I like it that way. I want the viewer to bring themselves to the art and walk away with their own ideas about it.” Jared’s fingers trace over the drawings; a rueful noise spills from his mouth.

Jensen want to wipe that worry and doubt from Jared, but there’s truth in his words. What people see isn’t always what you intended. But he can tell Jared another truth, too. “Jay, I’ve watched people view your work. Maybe people aren’t getting exactly what you are trying to say, but they are moved. I was moved. Modeling wasn’t ever on my ‘to do’ list, but after seeing your work I really wanted to be part of your vision. Your photos are powerful and people respond to that.” Jensen doesn’t ever string together multiple sentences, well, rarely, but the soft smile on Jared’s mouth and the glow in his eyes makes Jensen reconsider the appeal of being silently stoic.

 

Jared knocks on the panel into Jensen’s room. “Hey, you got plans tonight?”

Jensen looks up from his phone. He’s in the middle of a rousing game of “Words with Friends”. He doesn’t bother lying. “No.”

“Good, I would have had to spend time trying to change your mind, because we’re going out.”

“Out?”

“Yes out, you remember what out is right?” Jensen’s been pouring over scripts non-stop. Jared’s got this look, eyes alight with merriment, sporting a devilish smile, and Jensen knows that means nothing good for him. “Out. Danny put this together for you.” Jared tosses a garment bag on the bed.

Jensen eyes the bag and then looks at Jared. Jay is outright smirking now. Jensen thinks maybe a night on his phone is all the excitement he can handle.

Jensen unzips the bag and pulls out a mess of chains with charms dangling from them There’s a couple of cuffs attached to it and some billowing red cloth pieces. The leather pants are straightforward enough except for the deep blood-red color and a zipper that runs all the way from his waist, past his crotch, up the backside to end at his waist in the back. They could literally be unzipped in two pieces.

The phone rings and Jensen grabs it glad of the excuse to get away from that viper pit of clothing.

It’s Danneel. “So, you seen your wardrobe yet?”

“What’s this about Danni?”

Danni sighs. “I really need you and Jared to do this for me. You know how Gen and I haven't been in much this week?”

Danni’s stalling, but Jensen knows she’ll get there if he doesn’t push. “Yeah.”

“Well, we spent the week exhibiting at the L.A Art, Body and Fringe Festival.”

“I remember Jared mentioning that he was going for an afternoon but he didn’t mention anything about you.”

“That was my performance art piece.” Jensen’s mouth turns down. He feels a bit tike an angsty tween but can’t help wondering why he didn’t get an invite. “You were booked for the day with that Givenchy shoot.”

_Oh._

She continues. “Anyway I was talking with the team from Marais. I mentioned I’d worked with you in Milan. Suddenly I was gifted with an invite to the exclusive after-party tonight. I’ve been working on our outfits all day and I really need you to be there because I’ve tried to snag an invite for years. And yes, you have to wear what I sent over because there’s a dress code and we could still be turned away and this could make a real name for me and get me connected with the right people. I know it’s not much notice but I really am begging here and I’ll totally owe you.”

There’s a gasp then. Jensen laughs, saying, “Breathe Danneel.”

Jared’s grinning and obviously got the same spiel at some point. “So you’d owe me, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes, thank you! “

“Fine, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a big favor. Maybe a pedicure. I’m starting to get some calluses or you could be my ‘girl friday’ for a week.” Jensen can’t help teasing. Danneel mostly orders people around so this must be super important to her.

“I totally love you for this Jensen. Gen and I will be by in ten. Bye.”

“Well that’s a Danneel I haven’t seen before,” Jensen says.

Jared shrugs. “She’s been making strides in the arts community here, but it’s L.A. Who you know opens doors. This party is very exclusive. Every year there’s a theme. This year is bondage fetish wear. “

Jared’s kidding, right? Jensen examines his face. No. No he’s not, if the smug grin is anything to go by. “Fuck me.” Danneel is so going to owe him.

“You see if you can shimmy into those pants while I get into my stuff. Danni said you’d need my help with the top part.” Jensen grimaces and hears Jared’s laughter retreat across the loft.

Jense check the second bag and finds a black thong. That goes on first, then he slides into the pants. They ride low on his hips with the black thong peeking out at the sides. It’s obscene and hot as hell. He looks in the bag to find more chains and decides to look up some stuff about the festival while he waits for Jared.

When Jared comes back Jensen doesn’t drop his jaw but it’s a close thing. Jared’s in the same thing as Jensen, but the colors are reversed and _holy hell_ Jared’s got the most lickable hip bones Jensen’s ever seen. Around his neck is a red leather collar with long spikes and a single shoulder pad studded with metal pieces.

“What no torture top for you?” Jensen asks.

Jared smirks. “Nope just all my glorious natural beauty.” Jensen can’t even accuse him of being egotistical since it’s the truth, but he’s not about to let Jared know that. “So what do we do with all of this?’ He gestures at the pile of chains on the bed.

Jared grabs the smaller bundle, sets it aside, and picks up the larger one. Jared smooths out the piece of paper he’d been holding. “Danni faxed me a sketch.” Jensen leans in to look at the same time Jared reaches for the pile of chains and they both jump back at the unexpected skin contact.

Jared moves a bit to the side and arranges the top garment per Danneel’s sketch.

“Okay, stand up.”

Jensen stands and Jared pulls the chains apart and loops the contraption over Jensen’s head. It settles on his shoulders and he shivers as the chains fall down his chest and back. His nipples harden. So sue him: he’s got sensitive nipples.

Small upside-down crosses and skulls dangle and sway from the chains. Jared grabs one red leather cuff and Jensen extends his hand, allowing Jared to clasp it on. He does the same for the other hand. Jared runs a finger along the edge of the cuff. “It looks like the sketch.”

Jensen suppresses a shiver and lifts his arms,. Silk ribbons drift from the cuffs and float in the air. They brush across Jared’s chest - bright stripes the color of blood. Jensen responds, “I’m not sure we’d know if it was wrong.”

Jared chuffs a laugh. “Probably not but Danni will nitpick it once she’s here.”

“Yeah.” They’re quiet, almost whispering.

“The headpiece goes on after you have your makeup on.”

“Okay.” Jensen should move away from Jared. Jared’s not moving either. They’re not touching now but they're too close. Jensen refuses to tilt his head enough to make eye contact.

“We’re here.” It’s Danni’s voice.

They both jump and Jensen jingles like a dimestore windchime.

 

Twelve months later, Jensen stands in the grass as Harley and Sadie sniff around. Taking the dogs out was a great excuse to get away from inside. From the open windows he hears glassware tinkling and laughter pours out into the night. He can’t explain to himself why he’s not up there enjoying the party that’s partially in his honor.

It’s been one year, almost to the day of them getting the offer with Gucci.

“Hey, handsome.” It’s not the person Jensen hoped to see but he returns her smile anyway. Sandy links her arm through his and leans into him. Over the year, they’ve gotten closer, not quite friends, but bonded in their shared caring for Jared.

Sometimes Jensen wonders if Sandy knows how he feels about her beau. She’ll shoot him a look or exit the room at a tricky moment. Reasonably, how could she know? Jensen can’t even tell himself exactly how he feels about Jared.

Mostly Jensen tries to stay out of their way. It’s easier for him.

“You know,” Sandy says, “he lost his smile when you left the room. It’s not himself he wanted to celebrate.” She laces her fingers through his and tugs him back up the stairs, dogs on their heels.

He likes and resents Sandy in equal measure. He has no right to the second.

 

 

NOTE: I messed up and this is the right header for this Chapter - I gave my artist the wrong info. :(

 _"I feel like a rag doll. I have hair and makeup people coming to my house every day and putting me in new, uncomfortable, weird dresses and expensive shoes, and I just shut down and raise my arms up for them to get the dress on, and pout my lips when they need to put the lipstick on."_  
~Jennifer Lawrence

Jensen loses track of the days. In the last three days, he’s done shoots for Macy’s, Bloomingdale’s and Saks. He thinks he might scream if one more person tries to shove him into another suit jacket. He’s been poked with pins, had his waist duct-taped to fit into a shirt, and he swears half of LA has seen him in his boxer-briefs. He’s been propositioned twice, groped once and backed into a corner by a harridain in red Louboutins who didn’t like his “Smizing.”

He should be sleeping. He’s got a 7 a.m. call at Vogue, and he hasn’t had more than six hours of sleep any night this week. Unfortunately the dissatisfaction in his gut hasn’t responded to the six Tums he’s already consumed.

He can’t lay there anymore so he gets up and plods out to the kitchen. He can hear Jared’s quiet snores from the other room. He pours himself a ginger ale and sits down on the sofa. The script laying on the table taunts him, flopped open to one of the best scenes he thinks he’s ever read. Jared had agreed. The director for the project asked for Jensen specifically. Margie told him most likely it would open in Sundance and Cannes.

It’s a year long filming project. Jensen would be on call - he’s not the lead, so not on set everyday, but often enough that something from his current commitments would have to go.

He likes the art shoots and the editorials. They’re fun and different, The haute couture stuff is challenging. He doesn’t want to give up either of those. The only thing left is the bread and butter work - the regular shoots and bit parts that keep the paychecks coming in. What happens to his friends if he does this?

Margie and Jared’s agent, Suzanne, even started their own agency together. Hell, Chris and Steve have gotten some earnings from being part of Jensen’s inner circle. They wrote a score for a video series for a local web fashion curator, and have been doing performance music for Danni and Gen. A lot of people count on his and Jared’s gigs for a meal ticket.

The thought of letting any of them down is inconceivable, but it’s the thought of letting Jared down that makes his gut churn. He leans back and rubs at his eyes.

Seconds later Jared shuffles out in socked feet and pushes at his shoulder. “Scoot and turn around.”

Jensen does as he’s told, putting his back to Jared. When Jared’s hands settle on his shoulders, he bends his neck. He groans as Jared rolls his thumbs into Jensen's tense muscles. Jared works up and down his spine. Tumbles his fingers over vertebrae and rolls his fist into Jensen’s sore spots.

“You have to take it.” Jared says.

Jensen knows he’s talking about the script. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Always know what I’m thinking about.’

“Because I’m just that good.” Jensen hears the smile in the words.

“How can I?” Jensen’s tensing up, putting Jared’s hard work to waste. “It’s a long commitment. What about the runway shows? What about everyone that depends on me?” _What about you?_ That is a question he can’t ask. It’s too close to all the questions he has for Jared that have to remain unspoken.

“How can you not?” Jared replies. “This is the kind of role you got into this business to do. The rest of us will do what we need to. As for Alessandro. . . He loves you, Jen. He’ll bend over backwards to make sure you keep working with him.” Jared squeezes his shoulders and runs firm hands under his shoulder blades. “It’s not like you,re the lead for this film. They might be able to be flexible as well. If you don’t try, you won’t ever know if you could have made it work. Have you even talked to the director about your commitments? Or tried negotiating?”

Jensen shrugs.

“Thought so. Good thing you have me.”

Jensen can’t argue with that.

Jared works his back over until Jensen almost can’t sit upright anymore.

Jared stands and pulls him up. Jensen doesn’t protest being walked to his room and tucked into bed.

 

Jared exits the town car behind Jensen. He raises his hand above his eyes to block the flare of flashes going off. Reporters and fans like are calling out Jensen's name. Jared had forgotten exactly what this was like. He and Jensen had agreed they’d both rather sneak in and see the film alone without the crazy ceremony. But that was not an option.

A reporter shoves a microphone into Jensen's face. Jared puts a hand between his shoulders to let him know he’s right there. “So Jensen, who’s the handsome man you brought as your date tonight?” They’d agreed, when Jensen asked Jared to go as his plus one and Jared had argued that everyone would think they were a romantic pair, that they’d tell the truth.

“I’m not dating right now, Avery. So I asked the man responsible for helping me get here to come with me. My best friend: photographer Jared Padalecki.”

Another reporter closes in with a question for Jared. “Jared, aren’t you the photographer that did the promotion shoots for the film?”

Jared’s glad to answer this question. “I am. I was completely blown away when Paul Sorenson asked me to work on this project. I’m proud to have worked with such a great cast.”

As another questions comes his way. “Didn’t your photos win a recent competition?” Jared looks to the side as Jensen’s jacket slips from beneath his hand, but Jensen is smiling, relaxed, so Jared focuses completely on the reporter.

Jensen had entered the competition for Adweek and several others without Jared knowing. “They did. It was a real honor to be acknowledged by Adweek for the work.” Jensen’s worry over costing Jared work had been needless. He’s getting more offers and better rates than ever. Jensen is having a similar experience. Even if that hadn’t been the result he’d have no regrets in encouraging Jensen to go for this roll. Jared wants him to be happy.

No more questions come his way, so Jared moves to catch up with Jensen. He’s surprised when a woman behind the rope barrier screams, “Jared, Jared Jared.” He goes up to her. She gasps and grabs his hand in both of hers. The woman standing next to her says, “We’re huge Gilmore Girl fans.” Another says, “We love you, Jared!” A pen is thrust into his hand and he happily signs their notebooks and one glossy picture. When the first woman opens her arms he leans in for a hug and relishes the pleasure that sweeps through him. It’s good to know your work gives people pleasure. They gush thank yous as he pulls away. It’s certainly a different kind of praise than he gets for his photo work; crazy and gratifying, warming the memories he has of his acting days.

He turns to find Jensen's eyes on him, crinkling at the corners, amused and affectionate. The warmth Jared experienced with his fans is completely eclipsed under that gaze. He pushes forwards and slings an arm around Jensen’s shoulders. They’re asked to pose together and someone asks. “So, did you two plan the matching outfits?”

Jensen answers. “Not exactly. Our stylist, Danneel Harris, convinced us that we need to up our style game for the runway and designed these suits for us.” Jared reaches over and adjust Jensen’s burgundy tie. It matches Jared’s pants and jackets.

“Well, I’ve got to say she’s got good taste. You two look pretty sexy in those.” Jared enjoys the pink he sees rise on Jensen’s neck and nose.

Jared responds, patting at Jensen’s chest. “Thanks for the compliment. I look great, but I don’t know about this guy.” Several of the press laugh.

The two leads fo the movie are coming up behind them. Jared guides Jensen into the theater and they take their seats. Jensen leans over, grabs his hand, squeezes tight and says, “Thanks for pushing me, Jay, and thanks for being my date. There’s no one I’d rather have with me.”

Jared squeezes back. He’s thankful when the sound pours out of the speakers. It’s easier to ignore the _right, easy, perfect,_ that settles in his heart at Jensen’s words and touch.  
[197159.html](https://locknkey.livejournal.com/197159.html)

 

 

NOTE: I messed up and this is the right header for this Chapter - I gave my artist the wrong info. :(

 _“Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever... it remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything.”_ ~ Aaron Siskind

Jensen knows his schedule with the movie was insane, but not having to film now leaves spaces in his day he doesn’t know what to do with. Gen and Danni kicked him out an hour ago. He’s caught up on script reads, bored with video games, and there are still multiple hours left in his schedule.

He’d wanted a break after the movie, needed it, but you can only sleep and read for so long. He’s working out everyday and taking the dogs to the park, but he’s still bored, bored, bored.

Normally he’d drag Jared to a movie, go out for drinks or just hang out and binge watch something on _Cartoon Network_. They’re both into _Destroy, Build, Destroy_.

He stretches, rolls his head, and touches his fingers to the headboard. Nope. He can’t nap anymore.

He dials his agent. “Margie, anything new coming in?”

“What, we aren’t saying hello?”

“Sorry.”

“I have the same answer as yesterday. Unless you want to do commercials, which you don’t, I’ve got nothing that will fit with your other commitments. I’ll call if anything changes.” She hangs up with no goodbye.

Jensen purses his lips, thinks, and scrolls through his contacts. Chris and Steve are on tour, so that’s out. His other friends are either out of town or unavailable. He already planned dinner and went shopping for all the ingredients. He’s never telling anyone exactly how many hours he’s spent with the _Food Network_.

He tosses his phone down. Five minutes later he’s in the office watching Jared from the doorway. He’s editing photos for the Echo Theater Company, They’re production stage shots - faces filled with emotion and bodies stretched into larger-than-life gestures. Even though Jensen tagged along for the shoot, he doesn’t get how Jared does it. The shots are personal and up close on the actors; the colors are intense, creating a frame around the scenes. If he hadn’t seen the rehearsal, these pictures would make him want to go to the show.

Jared slides back his chair, narrows his eyes, and tilts his head. “Sit down Ackles”

Jared pulls up a chair and motions Jensen to sit. Jensen does.

“So you interested in learning what I’m doing here?”

He’s got absolutely nothing better to occupy his time and he gets to hang with Jared. There's only one answer he can give. “Yeah.”

Jared closes the theater company shots and brings up a picture of Danneel. She’s in profile to the camera and her hair is up in a messy bun. She has a paintbrush in her mouth and another in motion on a backdrop she’s painting. It’s a nice shot, but there’s nothing outstanding about it.

Jared stands, pushes his chair away and slides Jensen's in front of the monitor.

“So,” Jared says, “what do you think would make this a better shot?

“Take it again.”

“Smartass.”

“Better than no ass at all.”

“Yeah, yeah. Focus. Really look and tell me what you see that can be improved. Editing can’t make a bad photo good, but it can make a decent photo better, and give it a professional finish”

Jensen’s studies the shot. “There’s a lot going on in the background. It takes away from Danneel and her work.”

“Good.” Jared leans over him, extends his arm and covers Jensen's hand on the mouse. The cursor moves up to a menu and clicks on crop. Jared pulls away. “Use this tool to make a box around the parts of the photo to keep.”

Jensen decides the focal point should be Danneel’s face, her intent expression, and her hands as she works. He crops out both the sides and half the bottom.

Jared leans in again and shows him how to click to make the crop final. Hot breath whispers over the shell of his ear and down his neck as Jared says, “Great. You’ve got a good eye for this.” Jensen represses the shiver that threatens to give him away.

Jared shows him how to change the saturation, change to black and white, add a layer to deepen shadows, and several more things Jensen has no hope of remembering. It seems having Jared close enough to share body heat, as well as his voice in Jensen’s ear causes Jensen’s brain to go offline.

Jared pulls back after showing him a trick that will automatically fix the colors, then advises him immediately to never use it. “It’s lazy and only for crunch editing when you’ve got no time.”

Jered pulls up his chair again and sits down. Jensen exhales the breath he didn’t know he was holding slowly through his nose. He relaxed too soon. Jared’s hand clamps down on his shoulder and he leans close to say, “Okay, now that you’ve got an idea of where the menus are at, I’m going to show you some cool stuff, tools that let you truly be creative rather than focus on photo improvement.

Jared guides Jensen in changing the color palette, adding a layer and making a border with the brush tool. That part reminds him of his mother’s rubber stamp addiction except that he can change the everything about the brush, size, color, width. It’s pretty freaking cool. Jared finds a texture online and shows Jensen how to add a layer and erase part of it so the photo appears haloed by it. It’s fun and Jensen almost forgets how his body responds to Jared’s closeness - almost. What he thinks is he wants Jared to spend the rest of his life teaching him new things. Instead, he says, “Damn, Jared, this is fun.”

Jared looks pleased and a little smug. “I know.” He reaches around Jensen and pulls out a CD case from the desk drawer. “Here’s a copy you can put on your laptop.” He tosses a book at Jensen too. “The book has some good tutorials. Now leave me alone so I can get some work done.”

The tone is teasing so Jensen knows Jared isn’t being mean. He stick his tongue out at him anyway.

Back upstairs Jensen loads the program and spends the rest of the day on the tutorials. He forgets about dinner.

They order pizza and Jensen peppers Jared with questions about Photoshop.

 

The next day Jensen takes the laptop to breakfast. He ignores Jared’s amused grin as he serves bacon, eggs, and coffee.

Stupid giant and his stupid skills of persuasion. It’s his fault Jensen’s hooked on this. They eat quickly and Jared leaves for an outdoor photoshoot downtown.

“Bye, honey, drive carefully,“ Jensen hollers as Jared leaves the loft.

Jared flips him the bird.

Jensen retires to the couch. He’s got a good feel for the program. Now he wants to try something just for fun.

He opens his hard drive and starts looking at saved photos. He scowls when he opens the one with some older photos of himself in it. He loads the very first head shot he ever took into Photoshop.

He was so naive and so pretty then. Girly lips practically swallowing his other features. They’re the first thing to go. He scribbles through them with the pen tool. He blots out the background and half his hair with the airbrush tools and adds some drips and splatters with brushes. The shot is black and white, so he decides to add a transparent yellow rectangle over the right eye, going from the top of the photo to the bottom. He chooses the same yellow and adds a fe scribbles over his mouth.

The floppy hair needs to go as well. He starts an internet search of architecture, follow that to a _Tumblr_ site with a bunch of cool artsy pictures of landscapes, but doesn’t see anything that pings. He clicks on one of the landscapes with interesting lighting and it takes him to _Pinterest_. He scrolls through several pages and finally spots this scraggly tree, burnt and dead looking. He saves it and add it in a third layer. It make a kick ass head of hair. He adds a few more splatters and scrawls before deciding the transformation is complete.

He opens his photo folder again and clicks on the photo where he was young enough to agree to wearing brick print pants where it would haunt him forever - on film, no less. After Jared plastered his room with copies of the offending garbage, he gave him the silent treatment until Jared had begged, pleaded, groveled, and eventually offered Jensen something he couldn’t turn down: hand delivered lattes brought bedside every morning for a month. Jensen still thinks he let him off easy.

Those brick pants definitely need a photoshop treatment.

He was right when he told Jared this was fun. It’s also satisfying to transform the face that’s been both bane and blessing into something of his own making.

 

Jared hasn’t been bothered with frequent interruptions from Jensen looking for ways to entertain himself for the week following their Photoshop lesson. He hates to admit he misses seeing Jensen every few hours. He doesn’t examine the feeling too closely. It’s easier that way.

Jared tries to focus on the pictures he’s editing for Sandy’s portfolio. Some of the photos are from previous shoots, some are from the shoot he did a few weeks ago so she could tailor her poses to the feedback her agent has been giving her. Jared set up some shots that highlighted a sharper, less all-american-girl look. Sandy wants to move away from ‘girlfriend’ roles to something a little grittier and challenging.

Sandy’s been working a lot. So has Jared. He makes a mental note to plan a weekend away soon.

From the doorway he hears, “Is it okay if I work in here?” Jared turns. Jensen is standing in the doorway. He lifts his laptop in the air and gestures to the couch.

Rushing over and guiding Jensen to the couch, putting his feet up and getting something for him to drink would probably be overdoing it. “Make yourself at home,” Jared says instead.

The next three days are as close to perfect as Jared could imagine. If you’d asked him a week ago he would have said having anyone in his office would slow him down. In fact, he had to be clear with Sandy not to pop in and surprise him. Somehow every time, they’d end up prolonging the visit - usually in bed - and Jared would fall behind. That was great for his love life but not his professional one.

With Jensen there he doesn’t get as distracted as he did before, and his mind doesn’t wander. Maybe because if it does Jensen is there, saying “Focus, Jay.”

The situation could be working because he isn’t constantly thinking about having sex with Jensen either. He pulls his mind away from that slippery slope - if there was no Sandy, or maybe if they didn’t work together - there’s too many ‘maybes’ and ‘ifs’ between them to ever cross over.

His pauses, looks across the room to where Jensen is clicking away. He’s got his bare feet up on the coffee table. He’s wearing jeans and a tee that have seen better days. The tee is loose around the neck and about ten shades of different green from spots and washing and life. The jeans are torn and worn in a way that teen girls are willing to pay too much money to emulate. It's not fair to the world for any one person to look that lickable. Jared reaches for his camera.

Jensen give his permission with a raised eyebrow and a quirk of his lip.

Everything is easy with Jensen.

 

Jensen moves the mouse until he has exactly the crop he wants on the women’s portrait: tight with little background. Then he extends his canvas and adds the building to another layer. He uses a brush to remove part of each photo until they’re blending together. A smoke overlay goes on the next layer. He tints it to blue and makes it transparent.

He looks at it, but it’s not quite what he wants yet. He tests out a few textures until he settles on a peeled paper one. He uses it sparingly entwined into the border between face and building. The blue is nice but it needs more color. Using various brushed he adds watercolor style splashes down one side partially obscuring the right side of the face.

The sound of Jared’s computer shutting down is a familiar noise and Jensen looks up to realize that it’s dark already. He was so absorbed he didn’t notice. Jared sits down next to him and Jensen half closes the laptop.

Jared holds out his hands. “Can I?”

Jensen pushes his tongue against his lip, then bites it. He’s not sure he’s ready for anyone to see yet.

Jared raises a questioning eyebrow.

If Jensen is showing these to anyone, it’s going to be Jared. Also, Jared will keep bugging him or bribe him until he caves; he might as well get it over with. He hands over the laptop. Jared touches the screen with his fingertips and his eyebrows lift. “Can I look at the rest?”

Jensen nods. Jared opens a folder and all of his pieces load into Photoshop. Jared flicks through them, giving each one a thoughtful once over.

He hands Jensen the laptop.“These are really good, Jen. I can’t believe you’ve picked this up so fast.”

“It’s fun, and I don’t know, satisfying?”

Jared nods. “I get that. That’s how I got hooked on photography. Do you think you’ll keep doing it?”

Jensen looks at his hands. “I’ve already got new ideas I want to try. I’m kind of was hoping you’d teach me some advanced photography so I can take some of my own shots instead of grabbing stuff from the internet.”

Jared shifts, head tilts, but he stays silent until Jensen makes eyes contact. “Of course I will, all you had to do was ask.”

Jensen smiles. “Thanks, Jay. “

“So I’m going to have my agent call yours.”

“Uh. What?” Jensen’s lost. They usually agree to what they’re doing before they talk to Margie or Suzanne. “Why?” Jensen drags the word out so Jared gets how confused he is.

Jared gestures to the laptop. “About those.”

Jensen pulls the laptop close. “No. Jared this is for fun. They’re not good enough - “

Jared slaps a hand over Jensen’s mouth, “Stop. They are. I’m the gallery owner and I get to decide if they’re good enough. I think they’d be a perfect adjunct to the lipstick pictures we did that are going up in a month.”

Jared's not moving his hand, so Jensen licks it out of spite.

Jared pulls away. “Yuck!” He wipes his hand on Jensen’s shirt. Jensen elbows him in the rib. He can see Jared contemplating turning this into an all-out wrestling match, so Jensen lifts the laptop and says, “Precious artwork here.”

Jared relaxes back against the couch. “It really is, but. . . If you truly don’t want to share it, I’ll respect that, but I think you’ve got something worth saying and a beautiful way of saying it. It’s unique and I think it will sell well.” Jared jostles him. “C’mon, Jen, you know you want to. What do I have to do to get you to agree?”

The first thought that floats through Jensen’s head features a lot of naked skin. Sometimes Jensen is able to forget how much he wants to get into Jared’s bed. He’s gotten good at telling himself that it can’t happen. But there are times, like now, when Jared is all teasing and flirty, and the want rushes back in storm of desire that Jensen thinks might rip him apart. What he wants from Jared, those pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock, his ass open and at Jensen's mercy, is not on the table, but it doesn't keep the want from swallowing him from the inside out. He averts his eyes so Jared won’t see and says, “Let me think about it.”

Jared drops to his knees, with a pout on his mouth, eyes saucer sized and hands folded together and says, “Please, Jen-baby, I’d do anything.” Texas rolls through his vowels and shivers across Jensen's skin.

“You don’t play fair, Jay.” The twang is in his own words as well. There's a charge in the air, thick and static; playful is sliding quickly towards something much more dangerous.

Jared’s, “Nope,” is deep and serious. Jensen swallows; neither of them looks away. Jared’s chest expands, contracts, and Jensen bites his lower lip. Jared’s eyes drop to his mouth.

Somehow Jensen swallows the lump in his throat and his brain provides a save. He says, “Fine, you giant infant. Just never, ever call me Jen-baby again.’

Jared whoops, lays Jensen’s laptop on the table and sweeps him up in strong arms.

Jared spins him and the blood rush is headier than a bottle of wine under the Italian sky. It’s almost as good as what Jensen truly wants.

 

Jared sets the table for two. He gets out the candle holders his momma got him for Christmas and put the candles Sandy gave him in them. The cassoulet bubbles on the stove and baking bread makes the loft smell fabulous. It’s him and Sandy tonight. Jensen is out with Steve and Chris celebrating their return to L.A. He was invited, but Sandy hasn’t gotten enough of his attention lately. He wants to make that up to her.

When she buzzes at the door, he lets the panel slide aside to let her in. _Damn_ His girl is smoking hot.

“My eyes are up here, Jay.” The tone is teasing.

He pulls her in and nuzzles behind her ear. “Can you blame me? The way that top makes your boobs look, anyone would want to stare.”

She drops her bag and jacket on his bed while he serves up dinner.

They catch up on the tidbits of daily life. She tells him about the crazy set where she had a bit part playing a vampire. When she describes the challenge of doing a part that was different, she glows, smiling big and happy. He reaches over and grabs her hand.

He tells her about teaching Jensen photoshop and the new looks Alessandro has sent in for fittings. She laughs for a long time when he describes the dumb antics Chad got up to when they went out to watch a game and grab some beers last week. Chad has no shame, but Jared still doesn’t understand how he ended standing on the bar doing the Macarena.

They need to do this more. They talk most nights on the phone, but nothing compares to touching soft skin, smelling that strawberry shampoo Sandy loves, having brown eyes light up when he talks. It’s going so well Jared is about to suggest moving it to the couch, for some cuddling and another glass of wine.

Then Sandy says, “I said ‘hi’ to Danneel and Gen on the way up. They were working on some stuff for a shoot you have next week?”

_Uh-oh._ He hoped that he wasn’t going to have to talk about this. Sandy pulls her hands away and crosses her arms under her chest.

“Yeah. I was about to move this to the couch and tell you all about it.”

“Really?” She lifts her eyebrow and juts her chin out.

“It’s - ”

She cuts him off.“I don’t care Jared. My real concern is why you’ve shut me out of that part of your life. I used to be the first person you talked to about a new concept shoot.“

Jensen is the first person he talked it over with, but now is damn sure not the time to say that. “We’re both busy, hon.” It’s true.

Sandy swallows the last bit of wine in her glass, looks at him with a sad, humorless smile on her lips. Her eyes are wet. “Yeah, we are, but I think we could do better. Don’t you?”

Jared nods. “Yeah, yeah, we just have to make time for us, that’s important. How about we get away next weekend - a trip up to SF, stay at that little B-n-B we like?”

Sandy’s smile isn’t the incandescent one from earlier, but it’s close.

Jared gets up, goes around the table and pulls Sandy into his arms. She melts against him, head snuggled under his chin. “I love you babe, you know that right? He feels her nod against his chest and her smile looks happier than minutes before. Jared snugs Sandy close, arm tight around her waist. “We could - ” He nods to the bedroom.

Her hand presses against his chest. “No, not tonight.” Her tone is soft but the look she gives clearly says she’s not in the mood to be persuaded.

Her heels clip on the floor as she retrieves her bag and jacket.

He walks her down the stairs and out the door. She turns, brushes her hand over his cheek. He doesn’t want to think about the sadness that he put in her eyes, but he will make it up to her.

“Night, Jay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Jared goes back upstairs and grabs a beer from the fridge. This was not how Jared planned to end the evening. He thinks he should be more upset, sad, frustrated than he is at having to settle for reruns of _Friends_ , but he isn’t. Maybe that’s the problem.

 

Jared lies on his bed with Sadie and Harley. They all miss Jensen. Jared’s pretty sure Sadie is Jensen’s dog now, the traitor.

Jensen’s gone for six weeks doing _A Few Good Men_. With Lou Diamond Phillip and a trip to Texas, it was never an option for him to turn it down. Not that Jared wanted him to but the loft seems empty and Jared’s feeling sorry for himself. This is the longest he’s gone without seeing Jensen since they met. It’s unsettling.

Harley whines and licks Jared’s hand as if he shares the sentiment.

They exchange texts and calls almost everyday but it’s not the same as having Jensen around to bounce ideas off or to make coffee for.

Jared reads Jensen’s last text.

Opening night rocked. Wish you could have been there.

A genius idea strikes Jared. There’s no reason he can’t be there. He scrolls through his contacts and hits, “call”. When Sandy answers he asks, “How do you feel about a trip to Texas this weekend?”

“Yeah?” He can hear the happiness in the question. They’ve been making more time for each other, even enjoyed a couple weekends away since Jensen left.

“Yeah. I want to see Jensen’s play and thought we’d take a couple more days to swing by and see my folks. They’ll be thrilled to see you.” His parents love Sandy.

He doesn't hear anything and wonders if they’ve lost the connection. “Babe?”

“Sounds great, Jared. When do we leave?”

Ten hours later they’re seated in a theater in Fort Worth. Jared raises Sandy’s hand to his lips and smiles. “I’m really glad you could get away.”

She tips her head, smiling back, exposing that soft curver of her neck that he loves to nuzzle against. He leans in and does just that. In the dark of the theater, no one will notice or care.

The curtain rises and Jared forgets everything but the play. He’s always loved the theater. It’s a strong show and Jensen is great. He never misses a cue and his stage presence is mesmerizing. He looks polished and professional, comfortable.

When Jensen comes on stage for the curtain call, Jared is on his feet, whooping with pride. Soon the entire audience is on their feet.

Jared looks down at Sandy, clapping along with everyone else. She smiles up at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

 

__  
  
****

An Unbeatable Team

 

If you haven't heard of Jensen Ackles you’ve been living under a rock in the fly-over states. But not nearly as many people have have heard of the man behind the man: Jared Padalecki. These two have made quite a storm in the fashion world. They are rising stars in the L.A performance art and photography scene along with their styling team Danneel Harris and Genevieve Cortese. Rogue brings you the first interview with Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles.

**You’re getting a lot of buzz on your work that seems to focus on breaking gender binaries.**  
**Jared:** I think as soon as we start to understand the world, the world tries to push us into roles that make it easier for people to feel comfortable about themselves and others. I’m hoping to get my viewers to question those assumptions.  
**Jensen:** The story Jared is telling is a human story, not simply a gender story. Each person is different and unique. I hope that when someone looks at our work, they can start to embrace differences rather than fear them.

**What is it, do you think, that’s made you rocket up to become the must have duo in the fashion world?**  
**Jared:** As soon as we met, everything fell into place. We clicked in work and in play. That’s a rare thing and I think it brings a unique element to our partnership that other model/photo teams can’t match.  
**Jensen:** Teamwork and communication. The four of us put the work before our egos or individual desires. We’re telling a story and that's what we focus on.

**There are persistent rumors of you being more than friends. Is there any truth to that?**  
**Jared:** He’s more than a brother, a best friend. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.  
**Jensen:** We’re best friends. We have a kind of synergy that’s rare. I can see how some people could confuse that for something else.

**What do you value most about the other?**  
**Jared:** He’s my best friend and I know he’s got my back.  
**Jensen:** He has a great Espresso machine. No, seriously, He makes me a better person than I am alone. Jared pushes me to stretch beyond my comfort zone and give my very best every time.

**You met almost three years ago. What’s the most daring thing you’ve done that you’d attribute to the other?**  
**Jared:** There’s not one thing that stands out. I know that because Jensen never balks at even the weirdest of my ideas, I’ve stretched my vision into areas that I couldn’t have imagined before we met.  
**Jensen:** Jared encouraged me to be open about being gay. I’m not shouting it from the rooftops, but I’m no longer in the closet. Not hiding was like a weight was lifting that I didn’t even know I’d been carrying.

**Last question. Do you have anything upcoming you’d like our readers to know about.**  
**Jared:** My gallery is going to be displaying a new photo collage artist next month. This guy sitting next to me.  
**Jensen:** : Seems like he stole my line.

 

“Have you seen this?” Jared heard Sandy’s stilettos and was turing to greet her when her words sounded out angry and hurt.

She tosses a copy of _Rogue_ onto the coffee table and flops back onto the couch accusation all over her face.

“Um, no.” He’s not sure what’s got Sandy’s panties in a bunch. It seems half there conversations lately are infused with anger on her part and confusion on his.

She grabs the glossy magazine back off the table and it falls open to a picture of him and Jensen in black and white. “Oh, cool.” Jared reaches for the magazine, it’s dogeared as if looked at several times. He flips through the photos. No matter how he’d begged, he couldn’t get anyone to give him a sneak peak. The photos are great - full of contrast and creating a mood of tension and intimacy. He’d be proud to put his name on them.

When the art directo had driven them all out to an old junk yard and had them change into black underwear, he’d wondered if the final result would be awesome or simply trashy. The photos he sees are definitely the former. He particularly likes the one of the four of them. The girls had gotten sports bras and boy shorts. He and Jensen are in matching boxer briefs. They’re all on a mattress pressed close together and looking at the sky. Jensen's head is at his feets and Gen’s head is on his other side. Danneel’s head is at Jensen’s feet. They make an intricate puzzle of abstract shapes. The photographer had to get a lift to take the aerial shot.

Sandy’s sniffing brings his head up. Her eyes are liquid filled, and she swipes at them angrily. “You don’t even see it do you?”

He’s got no idea what she’s talking about. “Look at them, Jay! Not like a photographer, like an outsider.”

He looks again and all he sees is a sense of drama. There’s are a couple shots of him and Jensen with a chain link fence between them, a divide that maybe they’re trying to reach out to each other but failing or not knowing how. There’s two more shots on the next page. In one, they’re sitting up, curled around each other arms stretching across the others back. In the second they are face to face. Close to a kiss, but not quite. Sure the shots are provocative, but nothing he hasn’t done in his own work.

Sandy sniffles again and a humorless laugh comes out. “My sister called me this morning and asked if I knew about your boyfriend. She thinks you’re involved with Jensen.”

Jared shakes the magazine at her in disbelief. “From this article? C’mon, Sandy. You know me better than that.”

She grabs the magazine and quotes “‘He’s more than a brother, a best friend. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.’ You love him, Jay.”

“Well, yeah, but not like that.” The words taste like a lie. “It’s - we just get along really well.”

“You spend more time with him than me Jared.”

“We works together.”

“Jay, you choose to spend your free time with him too. You have for a while and we’re supposed to be the couple.” She snatches the magazine and stabs at the photos. “You guys look like the couple. It’s not just the magazine article. It’s everything. He’s living with you and has been since you met him. He never even tried to find a place, did he?” She doesn’t give him a chance to answer, knows it to be true without his confirmation. “You never even thought about asking me to move in and we’ve been together for five years.”

Sandy’s hands are in her lap and her eyes are rimmed red. She looks small and sad and Jared can’t find the words to fix this - them.

“It’s not working anymore Jared. We’re not working anymore.”

“You’re breaking up with me.” Jared waits for the hurt, the pinch he should feel, the urge to beg her not to do this, but it doesn’t come.

“No, Jared. You already left me. It just took me a while to figure it out.”

She gets up, and a tiny sad smile flits across her mouth. She doesn’t bother with a goodbye before she turns and walks out.

 

  
_You always have two choices: your commitment versus your fear._  
~ Sammy Davis, Jr.

Jared slumps into his couch, feet planted on the coffee table. In his lap is a gallon of mint chocolate-chip. _Road House_ plays on his big screen. It’s his third Patrick Swayze movie.

Jared understands he’s throwing himself a pity party, but his long-term girlfriend dumped him last week. He’s entitled. He ignores the Chad in his head that mocks him. ‘Not broken-hearted though are you, bro?’

It’s not the whole truth. The life he’s been imagining for himself - wife, kids, traditional - has crumbled. He mourns the loss of that future more than the person he was building it with. Guilt follows that thought. Sandy deserved better. _He sucks_.

He stuffs a small Snickers into his mouth and follows with another spoonful of ice cream. Swayze’s kicking ass when Jensen enters the loft. The door shuts behind him. Jared doesn’t look away from the movie. He’s very busy feeling sorry for himself.

Jensen walks through to his room. Five minutes later he sits next to Jared on the couch. “You’re doing this wrong.”

“Chad suggested hookers and blow.”

“Never listen to Chad.”

“Good advice.”

“See if you were doing this right, we could toast to that instead.”

“That’s phase two.”

“There’s phases?”

Jared ticks them off. “Phase one, sweets. Phase two, alcohol. Phase three, crying into my pillow. Phase one and two may never be combined. I hate puking gummies.”

“Sounds like you’ve got this worked out.”

“I think that’s what I’m pitying myself for. Everything I had worked out, didn’t work out.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Jared sighs and leans his head on Jensen’s shoulder. “I know.”

 

They've been drinking steadily all afternoon. Barbeque on the grill with beer, followed by some of the wine from Italy, snacks during the game and another bottle of wine.

Jared's uncorking a third; they are far enough gone to agree that it's a stellar idea. The television went silent over an hour ago, and they are shooting the shit, arguing about basketball – Jared prefers the Mavs – to agreeing that _Moscow Rules_ wasn’t as compelling as previous books in the series..

Jared's not really thinking when he asks, “So, you really like taking it up the ass?” He claps his hand over his mouth but there's no shoving the words back inside.

Jensen's gaze lingers on his face, rakes down his body and back up, “Who says I catch, Jay?”

Jared swallows. The smart thing would be to finish his wine and head to bed, but Jared often doesn't do the smart thing, but he does back peddle. “Sorry. I shouldn't have asked it's none of my business.”

“Hell, Jared, if you can't ask your best bro these things who ya gonna ask?”

Jared thinks he hears something there, sarcasm or challenge, but Jensen is a blank, eyes crinkled, small smile. Even his body isn't giving a clue. His legs are sprawled apart and one arm stretches across the back of the couch. Jared shifts and Jensen's fingertips brush his shoulder. Jensen lifts the glass of wine, sips, and then licks across his lips. Jared's suddenly, blindingly hard.

He's not stupid.

Crossing this line could be a very bad thing for both of them, but he's finding it very hard to care right now. He leans forward, elbows on knees, hoping to hide his erection. He clasps his hands together and asks, “So, I mean guys do that and like it right?”

Jensen is suddenly right there in Jared's space, his knee brushing Jared's . “You telling me you never touched yourself there, Jay?” The low rough burr of Jensen';s voice is making him think about it now, groin clenching, arousal pooling in his balls.

Jared can't find his voice. He shakes his head.

Jensen leans back, but doesn't move far away. He spreads his legs, glides one hand down his thigh. “You’re missing out. So many sensitive nerves back there. Hell just working around the rim with a finger can be amazing. It's not all about the prostrate, you know?”

“It's not?” Jared doesn't care. He gulps at his wine and just wants Jensen to keep talking.

Jensen huffs out a laugh, “No. Getting rimmed, man, I could come just fromt that alone, Seriously Jared, if you haven't tried a little ass play you are missing out.”

“I am?” And that can't be his voice, high and breathy.

“Mmm. Why you asking, Jay?” Jensen's shooting him this look under his lashes, enigmatic and clouded, but Jared figures he's gone this far, so why not?

“Curious, I guess.” He flicks his eyes up to Jensen's then away. He can't make himself hold eye contact.

Jensen moves slowly, and Jared could stop him at any time, but instead as Jensen puts his glass down and stands, Jared leans back. When Jensen straddles his thighs he puts his hands on Jensen's waist. “You want me to be your experimental phase, Jared?”

There's something there, a note in Jensen’s voice and Jared tries to pull back, see what's going on, but Jensen is just getting started. He swivels his hips, slides right over Jared's dick, nuzzles into his neck, and glides those damn sinful lips right up under Jared's ear. “Doesn't look like your dick's got any hesitation, does it?”

Jared's pretty sure there's not a single part of him that doesn't want what Jensen's offering, He doesn't even care what it is. It's Jensen and somehow that’s become enough for Jared.

Jensen loops his arms around Jared's neck. “Since you asked so nice, yeah, sometimes I like taking it. Mostly I top, probably because I'm a contrary bastard; most folks assume I bottom. Of course with the right partner,” Jensen accents the word right with a little flick of his tongue under Jared's ear. “Switching is pretty awesome. I play well either way. Sometimes you want someone to put you on your back and pound you into the mattress.” Jared whimpers as that image plays in his head.

Jensen switches sides and nuzzles up to Jared's left ear. “Other times there's nothing better than a tight little ass squeezing your dick so good you can't think of anything else.”

Jared's hands flex in the fabric of Jensen's tee.

Jensen moves his hands and whips his shirt over his head. “So what about it, Jay? Want me to teach you all about gay sex?”

There's a little voice at the back of Jared's head, a niggling sound that something is off here, but he can't figure out what it is and when Jensen grabs his hands, presses them to his stomach, Jared quits listening.

Jensen’s hands press against Jared’s, slides them up until hard nipples graze Jared’s palms. Jensen’s eyes are intense but his face is implacable. The voice in Jared’s head gets louder, _This isn’t what you want._ His dick disagrees, but that voice is definitely not Chad’s this time which makes him more inclined to listen.

“Stop.” Huh? His inner voice is awfully loud.

Green eyes clouded with lust look down at him. “You sure, Jay?”

The tone is so cold Jared shivers. HIs head clears immediately of both arousal and drunkenness. He moves his hands and clamps them to Jensen’s upper arms. “I’m sure. You’re my best friend. The only way we’re doing this is if it’s for keeps. I’m not messing us up for a casual fuck. I don’t think I could stand not having you in my life.”

The first smile Jared’s seen since this escalated curves Jensen’s lips up. “Yeah. me too.” He stands up, runs a hand through his hair. “Let’s just put this down too much booze.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Ditto. Wouldn’t want to be your rebound before you find a nice girl to settle down with.” Jared’s got no defense against the bitterness in Jensen’s tone, doesn’t even understand it really. They’re moving on, aren’t they? No hard feelings? Before Jared can think it through Jensen says, “Night, Jay.”

“Night, Jen.” Jared listens to Jensen’s footsteps receding before he heads to his own bed.

Sleep should come easy, but thoughts of what almost happened simmer in Jared’s head. Before, when he was still with Sandy, he always put a halt to any stray ideas he had about Jensen. That safety net is gone and his attraction sits hot and heavy in his belly, crawls down and makes his dick twitch. Yeah, he wants Jensen, but no amount of scorching hot sex is worth risking what they have.

Eventually sleep sneaks over him in spite of the turmoil of his thoughts.

 

Jared pokes his head into Jensen’s space, “So I’ve been thinking.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Ha-ha.You’re so not funny.”

Jensen sets aside his laptop and clutches his heart. “You wound me.” He grins and sits up. “So this thinking you’ve been doing?”

“About what you said about me rebounding and wanting to experiment with something I’ve only thought about. I think you might right.” Jared moves into the room and perches on the end of the bed.

“You do?” The grin has slipped from Jensen's face, but Jared’s not sure that he can parse what's replaced it.

Jared nods.”We live in the middle of the gayest part of L.A. so I was thinking maybe I should explore my curiosity a bit.”

Jensen shrugs, purses his lips and nods to the side. “Sure. Look for a hook-up. Get it out of your system.”

“Yeah, I just - “

“Spit it out, Jared.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d play wing man. I know clubbing isn’t your scene.”

Before Jared can add anything Jensen says, “Sure why not. Give me thirty to get ready.”

“Really?”

“What are best friends for, Jay.” There’s that off-note again. The one Jared can’t quite put a finger on, but all his instincts say it isn’t anything good. He studies Jensen’s face, but all he sees is the actor’s mask - bright smile and cheery eyes perfectly in place.

They meet at the door and Jared is brought up short. His fingers itch to get his camera. Jensen should always and forever wear that black leather jacket. The white t-shirt stretched tight across his pecs is also pretty spectacular. Tight jeans on a perfectly rounded ass almost causes him to trip as they head down the stairs.

Jensen’s knows a place. It’s a few blocks away. The bass beat reverberates through Jared’s feet before they even see the spotlights outside.

The bouncer waves them through the line. Half-clothed men are everywhere. Jared feels overdressed in his dark blue button down and jeans. Although where he would have scoured up metallic gold booty shorts is a question that will never be answered.

Jensen’s hand lands in that spot between his shoulder and and the back of his neck. He guides Jared to the bar and orders them both a drink.

After they’re served, Jensen turns to observe the crowd. “So, Jay, what are you looking for?”

Jared knows exactly what he’s into, but ‘you’ is not a wise answer. He doesn’t get to have that. “Not sure yet. But I want to dance.” He’s always loved it even if he’s kind of awkward and gawky.

“And, that’s where my wingman duties end.” Jensen throws back his scotch and signals the bartender for another round.

Jared bites his lip. He’s not going by himself and he’s not going to wait to be asked like some damsel in waiting. Jared doesn’t think persuasion and puppy eyes are going to win Jensen over in this situation. He goes for Jensen’s weak spot. “So how many coffees in bed will it take to get you out there?”

Jensen narrow his eyes. “You play dirty, Padalecki.”

Jared tilts his head, smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Well?” He can see Jensen weighing his options, figuring out how much he can get out of this.

“Hmmm, one month, but,”he holds up a hand, “not just in bed in the morning. Whenever I ask, on call.”

It’s worth it. “Deal,” Jared says and grabs Jensen’s wrist to drag him onto the dance floor.  
They get out there and Jared does his best imitation of a broken marionette, but he doesn’t care. He’s having fun. Also nobody bothers looking at him with Jensen on the dance floor.

Now Jared sees why Jensen didn’t want to dance. It’s because the rest of the population might possible explode from the hotness. Jensen’s hips, swiveling and thrusting, should be declared a lethal weapon. From the looks Jensen’s getting Jared isn’t alone in this line of thinking.

Bodies press in from all side and soon he’s almost dancing on top of Jensen. When a guy grabs him from behind and starts grinding on him from behind, Jared goes with it. That’s why he’s here after all.

Jared grins at the guy over his shoulder. The guy has black wavy hair, a days worth of scruff, and a few inches on Jared. Objectively he’s hot, but Jared doesn’t feel that punch is his gut, that fluttering he’s looking for.

When he turns back Jensen’s left the dance floor. Jared sees him at the bar. Jared leans back, wraps his hands around the guys neck and sways to the beat.

The next thing he knows, mister dark and brooding pulls Jared’s shirt off and uses the excuse of tucking it into Jared’s pocket to grope Jared’s ass.

This - this isn’t what he wants. Maybe he isn’t ready and maybe what he wants is standing there at the bar completely ignoring Jared. Jared’s done. He leaves the dance floor and heads to the bar.

He grabs Jensen and whiskey slops over both of them. Jared growls out, “We’re going.”

They get outside and for the first time in thirty minutes Jared can breathe.

“Jay what happened? Did that guy do something? Jensen’s face says he has murder on the mind as he turns to go back in.

Jared stops him with a hand to his chest. “Its - no - it’s not me - this isn’t me. It’s not what I want.”

Jensen pulls him in and squeezes before letting him go again. “It’s okay, Jay. Let’s go home.” Finally the Jensen that Jared knows is back.

They walk back. It’s too early for bed so they settle on a movie and spend the rest of the evening on the couch.

 

The current gallery show closes in two weeks and Jared’s at a loss for what to put up next. He’s got plenty of ideas, but nothing that seems quite right. He goes through his folders, to see if something sparks - an idea he can turn into show.

He opens the folder labeled ‘Jensen - casual’ and the images load into photoshop. The first one is a test shot that first night they met. Jensen’s head is thrown back, and his teeth are sharp and white, and he’s beautiful.

He goes through a few more and stops on the nude he took before their first shoot. Jared swallows against the emotion choking his throat. This is the best picture he’s ever taken of Jensen. He’s so fucking beautiful it’s almost heartbreaking - the kind of beauty that embodies rapture, euphorie, the kind of beauty that inspires sonnets and caused cities to burn.

Jared flips to the next photo, and the next, and the next. The truth is staring at him in full digital color. He’s used the lens to scream his feelings in large neon letters. More than that, the photos show the way he sees Jensen, his kindness, the masculinity he projects to distract from his pretty face, his goofy humor. If he’s honest, he’s been a little in love with Jensen since the beginning and that love has deepened with every minute they’ve spent together. Each and every photo is a love letter with a simple message: I find all the things you are worth loving.

He feels stupid, and he doesn’t understand how he was so deeply in denial. He also owes Sandy the biggest apology known to man. So much hurt could have been bypassed if he hadn’t buried his head and hoped for things to stay they way they were.

He’s stupidly, irrevocably, deeply, and forever in love with Jensen Ackles, with all his snark, his stupid bed-head, his grouchy, standoffish, protective shell, and the squishy heart it protects.

Now the only problem is convincing Jensen.

 

Chad is in town. He calls Jared to say he’ll be by in ten and there’d better be beer. “I’d say let’s go out but you’re too big of pussy for that.”

When Chad arrives he shoves a six pack at Jared’s chest, and gives him a one-armed man hug.

They decide to watch the Lakers game and order pizza.

When half time starts Jared tells him about Sandy. It’s as if years instead of months have passed, like he’s telling something he’s long removed from.

“That sucks. So you getting any?”

“You’re a pig, Chad. An emotionally stunted pig.” Chad shrugs it off and takes a swig of his beer. Jared can’t believe he’s going to talk to Chad about this. “There’s something - “

Chad cuts him off. “So I’m guessing you’re about to confess your big gay love for Ackles.”

Chad can be eerily perceptive.

“Just fuck him already and get it out of your system.”

“I don’t want to lose him for a fling.”

“Look, Jay, I’m going to tell it to you straight. You live together, you snark like an old a married couple, you prefer each other's company to anyone else, and you can barely stand to be apart. You’re already boyfriends except for the fucking - and that’s the best part.”

“We’re best friends.”

“Best friends who want to bone each other.”

Jared hears Jensen's footsteps coming up the stairs. Before he can open the door, Chad straddles him and sticks his tongue in his mouth. The part of him not freaking the fuck out hears Jensen walk in, pause, and stomp back out.

Jared flails under Chad and pushes him onto the floor. “What the hell, Chad?” Jared may never recover. There’s not enough hot sauce in the world to wipe Chad out of his mouth.

Chad somehow manages to look offended. “That was Ackles right?”

“Who the hell else would it be?”

“Well, try a thank you, then. You wanted to make him jealous. Now he thinks your rebounding with me. You dump me and you’re ready to move on.”

“Okay, that just might work.” No, he did not just say that. He can’t possibly be considering Chad’s insane and completely unbelievable plan.

“Chad’s a genius.”

“Not when you refer to yourself in the third person, you’re not.”

“Don’t say the Chadster never did anything for you. Now you can tell Ackles you moved on and have your big gay love story.”

“Chad, if you fucked this up for me - ”

“Trust the ChadMeister”

”Never.”

 

Jared paces the gallery. Jensen’s still upstairs getting ready. Gen and Danneel are setting up the cafe. The opening reception starts in five minutes. _Oh, God._ He hopes he hasn’t made the biggest mistake of his life.

The guests start pouring in. A specific clientele for tonight, invitation only. He’s greeting people but doesn’t see Jensen make an entrance. Jared knows he was coming. He’s a wreck with sweat sticking his shirt collar to his neck. It’s fifteen minutes in and he asks Danni to make any further greeting for the late arrivals.

When he walks into the second room, he sees Jensen. He’s standing in front of the nude. It’s the last piece in the show and the largest, measuring almost ten feet in height.

“Do you get it now?” He stand behind Jensen. The space between them is a gap Jared desperately wants to close, but he fears all he may have done is torn it apart permanently.

Jensen turns, eyes alight and the biggest smile Jared has ever seen on him. “Yeah. I get it. I love you too, Jared.” Jensen closes the space between them, winds their fingers together, and presses a kiss to the underside of Jared’s jaw. He whispers against Jared’s skin. “How long until I can get you alone?” That purred growl runs all over Jared in an electric spark.

“Not soon enough.” Jared checks his watch and groans. “Hour and a half.”

Jensen tips his forehead into Jared’s chest and whines. Under other circumstances he might laugh, but he shares Jensen's pain.

A patron approaches Jared and he has to give her his attention. Jensen doesn’t leave his side as he schmoozes and compliments, sends buyers to Gen, and plays the part of host. He does tease mercilessly, taking every opportunity to touch Jared, a finger curling his hair, a lean over his shoulder, a hand in the middle of his back, lips brushed over Jared’s neck .

Jared doesn't do much better, he introduces Jensen with an arm around his shoulder, a hand pressed to his heart, sneaks a hand into his back pocket.

It’s torture and ecstasy and so damn good that Jared never want to stop.

 

Jensen clenches his his fists, flexes them, clenches. It’s the same motion he’s been making for the last thirty minutes, maybe longer. He started about the same time he knew that Jared was in this all the way, as deep underwater as Jensen and ready to drown with him. He found himself digging his nails into his palms every second he was away from Jared during the course of the evening, because it was the only thing that kept him from tossing Jared to the floor and giving the art patrons a live show they hadn’t planned on.

Jared waves the last of the people out the door, thanking them, and shuts it behind them. He turns and leans against the door. His eyes are dark, hungry, and Jared’s never looked at him like that before, not even those few times when both of them wavered close to the line they weren’t going to cross. That line is gone now, as if it never was.

There is nothing between them except too many clothes and Jensen’s about to change that. He stalks across the yards that separate them, grabs Jared by the lapels and drags him down for the kiss he’s wanted to give him for three fucking years.

“Wait.” Jared says it and puts hand on Jensen's chest.

Every emotion Jensen has locks down, and he backs off.

Jared grabs his tie. “That’s not what I meant! It’s just that, if we start this in front of a window, the whole neighborhoods gonna get a free sex show.”

Jared drags him by his tie through an archway and past several giant photos of Jensen. Jensen’s glad Jared didn’t stop here, because there’s no way he wants to fuck around with Jared while enlarged pictures of himself watch. That shit’s too surreal even for Salvador Dali.

Jared moves back a panel at the far end of the room, never letting go of Jensen’s tie. Jensen’s getting tugged this way and that, and maybe he likes it. It’s definitely giving Jensen some ideas of what they can get up to another time. Right now he just wants Jared to hurry the fuck up. He starts counting seconds in his head - Jared has sixty before Jensen drags him to the ground and sexes him him up on whatever surface they land on - neighbors can watch for all he cares.

When he reaches thirty-two in his head, Jared reveals a door behind a panel he moves aside. Jensen's dragged into yet another hidden room he’s never seen before.

“Jesus Christ, Jared, I swear you’re hiding a doorway to another galaxy in this building. Every time I turn around there’s another room I haven't seen.”

Jared chuckles and waves a hand, “My personal art collection room. It’s got the closest flat surface”. He points to a chaise draped in red velvet. It’s huge, perfect for them to fuck on. His boy’s a genius. Jared leans in close, rubs his cheek over Jensen’s and says low and dirty in his ear. “So, do you want to talk and peruse art, or do you want to get naked?”

With no hesitation, Jensen answers. “Option number two.”

Jared curls Jensen’s tie around his wrist until they’re so close they’re exchanging breath. “Now where were we?” Jared's voice is low and husky. It travels through Jensen, as spikes of desire bursting through his bloodstream and he’s so hard, so fast, that he’s dizzy with it.

He growls and grabs Jared’s jacket, tugs with no finesse until it's off. The shirt follows and Jensen's hands are at Jared’s belt, pulling it off as fast as possible.

Fortunately, Jared’s on the same page, because Jensen doesn’t know if he can slow down. He’s waited too damn long to be slow, gentle, lover-like. He loses his grip on the belt long enough for Jared to tug his jacket and shirt from around his hands. They work on each other’s pants.

Jared is saying, “Off, off off,” under his breath likes it’s a prayer.

Once their clothes are scattered over the floor Jensen puts his hand on Jared’s hips and holds him at arm’s lengths. “Just, I need to look.”

_Good lord,_ he’s never seen Jared naked. He moves his thumbs in tender circles over the soft skin below Jared’s hip bones. The skin pebbles against the pads of his thumbs, and Jared shivers. _His._ Jared is finally his and, _God,_ he’s a fucking work of art.

He reaches up across Jared’s ribs, fingering the flight of birds that span the ridged bone. “Someday I’m gonna take my time with you. I’m going to trace my tongue over every bit of this ink and I’m not stopping until you beg me to fuck you.”

Jared swallows and his eyes go impossible dark. “Jen?”

Jensen isn’t a romantic, though he wants to totally romance the shit out of Jared, but this is their first everything, and he doesn’t know how to do that. Jared’s first everything. He’s wants it to be perfect and can’t figure out where to start.

Jared takes the decision out of his hands. He grabs Jensen's hips and pulls Jensen against him, skin smacking together. They both moan when their cocks snug up tight. It’s overwhelming, travels to every inch of Jensen's skin and he yearns for more. Jared leans in, tips his head down and runs those giant hands up his back. Jared covers Jensen skull in one hand and cups his cheeks with the other. Jensen’s knees quiver, nearly toppling them over.

Jared brushes their lips together, once, and then again.

Jensen’s patience exits the room. His arms go around Jared and guides him to the chaise. Jared’s knees give and Jensen shoves them apart, kneels between them and goes down on Jared like he’s starved for it. He doesn’t stop until his nose hits Jared’s pubes. Tears form in his eyes and he breathes carefully through his nose.

Jared’s hands scrabble in his hair and Jensen grabs his dick to keep from coming right there. Going down on Jared might be the hottest thing to ever happen to him in his entire life. How the hell is he going to survive the actual sex?

Above him, Jared's making the best high pitched whines and squeals he’s ever heard. He drags his mouth back slow, tongue curving against the underside of Jared’s cock. Jared’s moans turn into his name repeated over and over, “Jen, oh God, Jen.”

Jared grabs tight to his hair as Jensen slides to the crown and tongues behind it. Jensen thighs tighten with arousal and the pain turns to liquid heat and travels in a slip-slide all over his skin. Jensen slides down and up again, holds tight to his balls to keep himself in check.

“C’mon, Jen, I can’t. I’m gonna - please, want you to come with me.” Jared tugs hard and Jensen slides up his body. He grabs Jared’s hand in his and guides it to their dicks. Jared gets the idea and their fingers entwine around their cocks, jerking them from root to tip and back again.

Jensen exercises control, thinks about Photoshop, because he’s so damn close, but he wants to watch Jared come. On the second stroke up, Jared does this twist-squeeze thing and Jensen can’t hold off any longer. His orgasm starts at the base of his spine,flows through his body, and he’s covering their hands in come.

Jared is only seconds behind him and the sight is one Jensen will never get enough of. Jensen’s heart is racing and he swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life than Jared’s blissed out expression as he arches under Jensen and cries out his pleasure.

They lay there, Jensen rising with each breath that Jared takes. Jared’s heartbeat, beating a staccato under his ear, eventually slows and evens out and Jensen revels in the feather touches that Jared’s long fingers ghost over his skin.

When Jensen is sure his arms will hold him up - seriously Jared might just kill him - he pushes up so he can look down at Jay.

Jensen could look at this for the rest of his life. He doesn't have words for Jared’s expression, all he knows is that it twists him up inside, makes him feel more alive than anything that’s come before, and he never wants it to stop.

Now he can kiss Jared properly - a real first kiss. He moves up, frames Jared’s face between his arms and and entwines their hands together over Jay’s head. He swipes his tongue over Jared’s bottom lip and nibbles at it until Jay’s mouth drops open on a moan. Jensen swipes inside, chases Jared’s tongue with his own, learns the indentations of his teeth. Jared presses up, straining against his hold and these guttural pleas issue from his mouth, Jared's strains, moves under him in an attempt to erase any space that might still exist between them.

When he releases his hold on Jareds wrists strong arms envelope him and they kiss until they have to stop for breath.

Pulling Jensen back in for another kiss Jared asks, “Can we do this for awhile?”

Jensen breathes the answer over his lips, “Forever.”

 

Jared walks into Jensen’s dressing room after the final curtain call. It’s the last night of a three week sold-out run. He gives Jensen the Kentucky Bourbon he had shipped in as a special gift. He’s so damn proud of Jensen he could scream it on it the streets.

He stands behind Jensen as he removes his makeup. After the last swipe, Jared leans in, nibbles Jensen’s earlobe and says, “Congrats, babe. I knew you could do it.” Jensen has never looked happier. He's glowing. After three standing ovations, who can blame him.

He lets out a hot breath over Jensen’s neck, and licks a strip along Jensen’s jawline,across skin starting to roughen with stubble. “So you about ready to tap this cherry ass?”

“Jay?” The breath rushes out of Jensen. “You can't just say shit like that. It might kill me.” Jensen swivels around on his stool, places his hands on Jared’s hips and looks into his eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

Jared’s been ready for weeks. Jensen’s the one that’s been pussyfooting around about Jared’s first time bottoming. But Jared’s not afraid to play dirty. “After you practically made me come on your fingers, yeah, I'm past ready Jen. I think I’ve wanted this since that first moment when I turned around in that bar and saw you. I was just too damn blind to see.”

Jensen’s voice is rough and deep. “You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Jensen drags him down to his knees and devours his mouth. Tongues twined, wet, and desperate, Jared whimpers into the kiss.

He pulls back and Jensen’s eyes are the dark green of a lake bottom. God he is so in love with this man that it fills every crevice of his body shoving out anything that’s not Jensen. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jensen laughs, stands and grabs his hand, dragging him out the door.

Chad was right - and god willing he’ll never hear it from Jared - he did get his big gay happy ending.

 

After, they lay in Jared's bed, Jensen curls around Jared and traces the curlicue pattern of his back tattoo. Jensen can't quite believe this is his life. Three years ago his dreams were bust and broken at his feet. Now he's got everything, more than he could've dreamed of. He's out to his family and living with a man he plans on spending the rest of his life with. His play is popular and a critical success. He's got enough offers coming in that work won't be a problem for the foreseeable future.

None of his success would be as sweet without Jared.

“Shut up. You're thinking too loud. It's keeping me awake. I’m trying to follow my post-coital bliss into sleep here.” It's a rumble that reverberates against his chest and Jensen laughs.

“Hmmm. Maybe I should give you a reason to stay awake.”

Jared's turns in his arm, dimples carved deep with his smile. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh?” Jensen drags a hand down Jared’s side and between his legs, stroking him to harness.

Jared moans and tips his head back. Jensen worships that perfect stretch of skin with his teeth and tongue until Jared grabs his ass and gasps out his name.

As Jensen makes a place for himself between Jared’s spread legs he only has one thought in his head.

Falling for his boss was the best decision he’s ever made.


End file.
